Sarian Presents: Sins of Our Fathers, Sons of Our Lovers
by namelesslunitic
Summary: A family tragedy sends Brian and Stewie's lives into turmoil, leaving them struggling to find their way down separate roads until they inevitably careen into each other. Sometimes it's the stormiest paths that eventually lead to the brightest rays of sun. - A Brewie collaboration between namelesslunitic and TourmalineTrue
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: Normally with these collaborations both me and my co-author like to leave our own individual author's notes. This time, however, you are just hearing from me since TourmalineTrue has other matters that must take priority in her life. Just know that she appreciates all of you guys just as much as me, and like me, she is also extremely proud of this latest project we've embarked on together. Welcome to the start of our most ambitious undertaking to date. This story is currently a work in progress, but you can expect regular updates every few weeks or so. I really don't know what more I can say without spoiling too much. I simply want to say that I look forward to seeing what our readers think. I think you'll find something pretty unique here, and I hope you enjoy it. Also, reviews are greatly appreciated. So, with all that said, I'll stop rambling and just let this story speak for itself. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy.**

 **Warning: This story will contain pedophilia and bestiality.**

 **Disclaimer: We do not own _Family Guy_ or its characters.**

 **Sarian Presents: Sins of Our Fathers/Sons of Our Lovers**

 **by:**

 **namelesslunitic and TourmalineTrue**

 **Prologue**

It was a dark day for the Griffin family of Quahog, Rhode Island. The sky was awash in a sea of melancholy gray, the clouds starting to roll in ominously, like so many waves that had brought them there to the cemetery that day.

There was a practical sense of needing to get on with things, but an emotional one, too. Peter Griffin- son, brother, husband, father, friend, five time winner of The Drunken Clam's Drink Ya Blind drinking contest and one time winner of its wet T-shirt contest- was dead. His family was very much heartbroken.

...But, as they were also an emotionally stunted set who oftentimes had trouble processing deep feelings, in between the tears, there were a lot of comments made about not wanting to get rained on and being hungry for the food that was to be served afterward. Along with the requisite quips made at the expense of their fellow friends and neighbors in attendance.

"The black of Bonnie's shoes doesn't match the black of her dress," Stewie noted out loud. "The black of her dress is a lot duller. I think some of the original pigment faded out. Do you think she just doesn't know how to do laundry, or is it so old that some fading was inevitable? Did Joe just not let her buy nice things? He wouldn't even let her replace her old LBD? Well, at least if that was the case, she doesn't have that to worry about anymore. Right?" The baby grinned slyly. "The life insurance has got to pay for at least one new dress. Right?" He looked at Brian, the family dog, for a reaction.

Of everybody there, Stewie was probably the least affected by recent events, but Brian, on the other hand, wasn't in the mood for the baby's totally irreverent attitude. He groaned in annoyance, feeling a stab of anger inside to match the stabbing rhythm behind his eyes. God, he was hungover. Fuck, he hated funerals.

He rubbed his forehead and growled out, "Stewie, this is really not the time for your crap. I'm not in a mood to humor you right now. Can you please just leave me in peace? Show some fucking respect for the dead."

"Why should I?" the infant genius retorted. "They're dead. What do they need with my respect? They do have plenty of peace, though." Stewie pointed at the freshly turned earth of his father's grave. "You want some peace, Mutt, that's where you'll get it. Six feet under."

The dog gritted his teeth and seethed. He'd always known Stewie was messed up, but today it almost seemed like too much to bear. The priest was up there, saying his words, and as Brian stared at that plot of earth, it would be all too easy to start contemplating his own mortality along with Peter's. And the grief of having lost his friend was enough.

He looked at his other family members, at Lois and the two other kids. Meg was quietly crying and blowing her nose into her hat. Lois was muttering to a zoned-out looking Chris about ham salad. Something about how someone had made ham salad for funeral food and Lois took that as a personal insult ("to a fresh widow!"), because apparently Lois's ham salad had been the star of the last block party or something. Brian didn't remember that ham salad. He _did_ however remember how out of this world Lois's ass had looked in the pair of shorts she'd worn to that block party.

And her gams looked pretty fine, today, too, in the dress she was wearing…

The canine almost slapped himself.

 _That **black** dress she was wearing...A mourning dress._

He was shaken by his own thoughts. What the hell was wrong with him? Of course, he'd always had these thoughts, so why should they stop now?

 _Because the man whose wife you coveted...that man is now dead. And he was your friend. You're now sitting here, coveting his wife at his funeral._

Brian hung his head in shame.

Stewie was stuck on women's attire, as well, saying musingly, "It's an LBMD! A little black _maternity_ dress, and she's been pregnant for years! No wonder it looks old!"

The dog genuinely considered smacking the baby, wondering if anyone would notice. He didn't want to cause a scene at his best friend's funeral. But he had few qualms about smacking that friend's infant son. Everything was so oppressive today, and he didn't need Stewie making it worse. Did the kid just have to mock _everything_?

As the canine contemplated proper funeral etiquette, Chris suddenly rose up out of his seat and started wailing.

"Waaaaa-ah! I miss my daddy!" The teenager staggered forward at a run and jumped into the open grave.

"Oh, no!" cried Herbert, from one of the back rows. "Somebody help him! He's far too young and luscious for the grave!"

"Fatness to fatness, dust to dust," opined Stewie.

As the clouds started to make good on their threat and sprinkles finally started to fall, Lois seemed to forget about the ham salad, turning to Brian, a startlingly numb expression on her face, and a wistful note in her voice.

"The weatherman said it might rain on the day of our wedding. I was nervous about marrying Peter, and I told myself that if it did rain, I wasn't going to marry him, because that would be a bad omen. It didn't rain on our wedding day. It rained at his funeral."

Brian froze as he met the woman's eyes, those cold, _dead_ eyes. He knew Lois was taking this hard. How could she not? This was her husband who, despite almost driving her insane, she loved deeply...and he was gone, leaving her alone with three children to care for and who knew how many financial responsibilities. Brian couldn't imagine the incredible stress she must be under, but as he looked into her eyes, he felt like he was able to see a glimpse of the grief she was drowning in for the first time and it stole his breath.

They stared at each other for a few moments before the dog finally reacted, reaching out to take Lois's hand in his paw. There was hesitation but only for a second before she accepted the gesture, holding on tightly for support, accepting this small comfort.

She turned back towards the scene as several men were struggling to pull her son out of the hole in the ground. Brian turned away soon after, a slight shiver shooting up his spine at the contact he was now sharing with Lois. He could barely focus on the absurdity in front of him, too lost in his own head...his aching head. He groaned. And then winced as he felt an annoying little finger poking him in the ribs repeatedly, bringing him somewhat back to reality. Despite the irritated sigh that escaped his lips, the dog did his best to try and ignore the boy.

Stewie full well noticed this, but he was undeterred, continuing to pester Brian as his eyes remained locked on the canine's paw that was currently clutching his mother's hand. It only took a couple of minutes before he finally prevailed at getting Brian's attention.

The dog turned his head sharply and glared at the child, practically growling under his breath as he spoke.

"What, Stewie?!"

The child glared back and motioned his head in the direction he had been looking only a second earlier.

"Hypocritical much? Whatever happened to respect for the dead? Hmmm?"

It took a second for Brian to catch on to what the kid was on about, but when the realization hit him, his heart sank. His gaze remained steeley, though, not willing to give Stewie the satisfaction of seeing him admit guilt.

"She's my friend, Stewie. I'm just trying to help."

The boy rolled his eyes at this and scoffed.

"Riiiiiiiiight. That's totally all that's going through your head. Helping her…"

Brian replied sternly.

"Yes, Stewie. Helping her. And she's helping me. We're both hurting, right now. This is hard, and we need comfort. That's it. Of course, I wouldn't expect you to know anything about being there for someone. You only care about yourself. Your own father is gone, and you act like you barely give a damn. What's wrong with you?"

"Me?" Stewie's eyes widened, but he wasn't exactly offended, and he wasn't lost for a reply for long. "I'm a genius baby, Brian. Now, given those two characteristics, what precisely makes you think I should've felt a connection to the recently departed? He was my father, yes, but he was a dunce. And he never really did anything resembling parenting. _You_ , on the other hand… You," he sniffed haughtily and glared, "purported to be the dead dimwit's best friend."

The canine flinched back briefly before firing in return. "I was his best friend!"

The child chuckled mockingly. "Oh, right. Some friend. What kind of friend starts getting cozy with his supposed best friend's wife at his own funeral? I know you, Brian. I know what this is. Don't sit there and deny it." The boy folded his arms. "I mean, it's not like I really care. I'm simply calling you out because you had the gall to lecture me earlier. You brought it on yourself."

The rain was starting to pick up, and the guests were starting to disperse. Some looked at the Griffins concernedly. Chris was now back standing over by his family. Both he and Meg looked rather blank. Lois was staring at her lap. Brian's head throbbed dully but steadily.

"You're reading this wrong," he said to Stewie, and the dog pinched the skin between his eyes. The little hellion child had touched a nerve, but that didn't mean Brian would admit to such a thing. He comforted himself by telling himself it was only right that he felt guilty and conflicted. He might think a couple unsuitable things about Lois, even on today of all days, but there was a drastic difference between thinking something...and acting on it. And it wasn't as if he _didn't_ want to help Lois, to comfort her… He hadn't lied to Stewie.

Stewie always thought the worst, of course, because he was the worst. Case in point…

"Um, helloooo? Lois?" the infant antagonistically trilled. "Why are we still sitting in the blasted rain? It's going to be a downpour soon, mark my words." He stood up on his chair and looked across Brian to regard his mother angrily. "Your infant son will get soaked to the bones. And the...others" he waved a hand dismissively in his siblings' general direction, "as well. Is your game plan to make us all stay out here, catch pneumonia, and follow the Fat Man in joining the bleeding choir invisible? Well, if the rest of you want that to be your fates, I'll leave you to it, but I demand somebody take me somewhere indoors!"

For once, it was almost as if Lois understood Stewie. At the very least, his outburst garnered her attention, and she blinked several times in rapid succession.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie. Mommy was just spacing out." She gave a humorless chuckle. "The rain is starting to pick up, isn't it? And everyone is leaving… Well." She let go of Brian's paw and stood up, smoothing her dress. She adopted a more casual attitude again and motioned for her teens to follow her. "I guess we better go see about that ham salad. Brian, grab Stewie, if you could."

Brian grimaced, hesitating before reaching out to pick up the boy. Stewie, however, jumped away. "Ohhhh, no. You're not carrying me. I'm perfectly capable of walking, thank you very much, dog."

The dog sighed and hopped off of his seat. "Don't be difficult, Stewie. At least let me hold your hand, so it doesn't look like I'm neglecting you."

At this, the infant turned, chuckling evilly with a glint in his eye. "Ahhhhh. So, it's _my_ hand you wish to hold, now, hmmm?"

Brian shook his head and snatched Stewie's hand, deciding to forgo permission. "You're a little asshole…"

Stewie thought about saying something back, but was honestly growing tired of this bickering. Sure, he liked to verbally spar with the family mutt, but even he had to admit, the grim atmosphere was putting a damper on his fun. So, he just chuckled again, deciding to just call his victory now. Brian began to walk after Lois, and he followed. Squeezing the dog's hand tightly as they walked.

* * *

And after that, life went on. It went on, as it always does, but, for the Griffins, not how it always had. Peter hadn't been the mature, capable, and responsible head of household that some fathers and husbands might be, but in his absence, it steadily became more apparent that in so many ways, he'd been the focal point of their family.

Over the next several weeks, the Griffins all tried to act as though life was as normally abnormal as ever. The only one who came close to succeeding was Stewie. Even he didn't quite manage, though. His usual practice of tormenting Lois and thinking of ways to make her meet her end all but ceased. She already seemed pretty lifeless; Stewie saw no challenge in it and determined it wouldn't be sporting.

The boy tried to get Brian's attention, just for something to do. But that damnable dog wouldn't be pestered or a playmate. He seemed distracted, careworn, and stressed. He mostly avoided Stewie like the plague, unless Lois had farmed out some caregiving task to the family dog. Stewie resented being treated like he was below the muttonheaded mutt's notice, when really, Brian should be wetting himself out of flattery for Stewie ever having sought out his company or included him in any of his schemes. But it wasn't like his feelings were hurt. Oh, no. Never that.

Stewie simply took to spending more time in his room and re-devoting himself to his inventions.

Chris, meanwhile, had wanted to take up the mantle of chief-problem-causer-and-stupid-idea-haver of the family. While this maybe shouldn't have posed a problem, since Chris was plenty capable of having stupid ideas, his efforts turned out to be rather lame. It was probably due to the fact that in the past, the teen had unbridled enthusiasm at his command, to accompany with his being clueless. Now, he found his energy levels had dropped. He also didn't have a group of friends like Peter'd had to get in trouble with.

So he bought a pet piranha and "let it loose" in the house (e.g., he dumped it out of its tank onto the floor and watched ignorantly as it died). Then, hoping to get out of taking a test, he decided to cause a stir by announcing to everyone that he was a descendant of Swedish royalty, and somehow immune to test-taking. Someone actually checked on his genealogy, and, shock of shocks, it turned out to be true. He still had to take his geography test, and the Griffins didn't get any fanfare or royal perks, aside from IKEA offering Chris a free plate of Swedish meatballs.

In other words, the middle Griffin offspring's ideas for causing mayhem proved totally anticlimactic.

If anyone had taken any notice of Meg, they would have seen that she was more sullen than before. She seemed more discouraged by life than ever. She was angrier, and had been disciplined for getting into a couple fights at school. At home, she went unpunished. She never knew if Lois had even listened to the voicemails the school had left Meg's last surviving parent. Or, if she had, if they had even registered or simply gone in one ear, and out the other.

Lois sat up nearly every single night with her accumulating bills, slumped over the kitchen table in her robe. She had permanent bags under her eyes and zombie walked through her days. She had just been able to cover the funeral costs for her husband, and now his loss left her with a heap of debt and no means of support. She didn't want to go to her parents for help, but ended up going to Babs and asking for a small loan, figuring her mother would be less likely to speak ill of Lois's late husband than Carter would be. Her mother obliged, but Lois knew this couldn't go on.

One night, Brian came home from drinking to find Lois sitting in the kitchen, with her checkbook and a pile of papers and envelopes spread out on the table in front of her. An empty wine glass was at her elbow, and the dog couldn't tell if her eyes were swollen from sleep deprivation or from crying.

"Lois?" he said dumbly, extending an arm and leaning against the door frame. She jumped and turned around.

"Oh!" she gasped. She rubbed at her eyes with her fists and started to rise from the chair. "Brian, I…" She looked disoriented out of the chair, from what Brian could see by the light her computer screen was emitting. The canine didn't entirely have his bearings, either, though he certainly hadn't stayed at the bar to get as drunk as he could've gotten. As he, frankly, had felt like getting.

Since Lois didn't look like she quite knew what she was doing out of her chair, she started forward, then seemed to have a thought, stepped back, and sort of lowered herself tiredly back into her seat.

"I remembered something I had to do…" she said in a weak voice. She sighed, and rested her chin in her hand, staring at the computer screen.

Brian approached her, squinting against its glare.

"Wha- what couldn't wait at two in the morning?"

He hopped up on a seat next to her and surveyed the screen, then the rest of the scene. She had an accounting program open on her computer, and strewn about the table appeared to be bills, along with her checkbook.

"Um, Lois?" he asked, getting a not so good feeling about this. "What's up?"

He'd guessed she hadn't been sleeping much lately. She just seemed to have very low energy, and there was no hiding the fatigue on her face. However, Brian had figured she'd been having sleepless nights due to grief. Now it looked probable that she was stressed over money, and he wondered if she'd really been up every night...doing this.

"I'd thought we could afford to pay the cable bill," said Lois, her voice roughened by her exhaustion. "See? I started to write them a check." She shoved the checkbook Brian's way, and he observed the voided check on the top. "But it looks like we're losing our little luxuries. And they were always so little, weren't they? But…" The woman exhaled heavily. "I guess it's not so bad. It'll be worse in a couple weeks when I can't pay the electricity bill. That'll really put the cable thing in perspective…"

Brian stared in alarm. "Lois...I- I had no idea…"

She sighed again and tried to take a sip from her empty wine glass. She frowned when she discovered her mistake. "You weren't meant to. But there's no hiding it now." Her tired eyes filled with tears.

"Lois…" the dog repeated, but didn't know how to go on. He placed his paw over her hand where it rested on the table, wishing there was something he could do to make things better for her. For all of them. But in this moment, mostly for her. He could barely stand seeing her looking this defeated.

As Lois began to cry, pulling her hand out from under Brian's to bury her face in it, Brian asked, out of a desperation to say anything,

"A-are you, are you sure?"

Lois uncovered her face momentarily to flash him an angry look. " _Of course I'm sure!_ " she snapped. "You think I'm stupid? Or that I'd let myself fall apart over nothing? After trying so hard- " Her speech ended there, unable to continue as she fell victim to a round of intense sobbing.

This was driving Brian crazy. He felt such a mixture of sadness, awkwardness, and worry that he just about wanted to fall to all four legs on the floor, pace restlessly, and whine like an ordinary dog.

"Wh- why d-d-did you have to...to come home now?" the woman sobbed. "A h-half hour later, and...and I would've given up and gone to bed!" Her shoulders shook with her crying.

Brian couldn't help but lay a paw on one of her shoulders. He kept it there, even when she criticized him further with her next words.

"You've been to the Clam. I c-can tell. That's wh-what you do best, isn't it? Drink. I know you, you, you could've stayed there longer!"

The sarcasm stung a little, but Brian knew she was hurting. Even so, he automatically replied defensively, "I haven't been th-there in a lll-lllwong time, Lois. And tonight, I-I-I d-dinnit stay as long as I could have, cuz I knew I'd have to g-g-get up in the, in the morning with the kids."

Although she didn't jerk away from his touch (and Brian had begun softly rubbing her shoulder), she did throw down her hands from her tear-streaked face and fix him with a steely gaze.

"You're saying I haven't been taking care of my kids?" she demanded from between gritted teeth.

Her expression was all the more scary for the fact that she seemed like a living, breathing ghost of her former self with nothing left to lose, but instead of simply stammering out an apology while cowering, Brian forced himself to remain calm.

"No, Lll-Lwois, I'm just saying I kn-know you des-sserve my help when you're going through such a hard time."

Lois's face softened, and as she looked at Brian, she even smiled slightly. Brian continued.

"I care about you, L-wois. I always have. And it kills me to see you suffering like this. We're all suffering, but I know you're the one with the true burden, right now. I just want to do everything I can to alleviate some of that burden."

Their eyes met as the dog continued massaging her shoulder. Lois's smile grew slightly, and Brian couldn't help but smile back. She leaned forward.

"Thank you, Brian."

And in the next instance, she closed the distance, touching her lips to the dog's. It was only for a second, but Brian still felt his heart skip a beat as his eyes went wide. He gripped her shoulder tightly as elation soon gave way to an atmosphere of awkwardness. They both looked away from each other, unsure about what to do next. After several excruciating seconds, Brian finally spoke up, head still turned.

"I-I'm here for whatever you need."

Lois reached up and clutched the hand on her shoulder.

"I know…"

They remained in that position for a few moments longer before Brian cleared his throat.

"So, uh, y-yeah. I'm going t-to bed. Don't stay up with this too late. Don't l-let it get to you. It'll be ok. We'll get through this."

Lois simply nodded her head before releasing Brian's paw and turning back to her computer screen. Brian let go of her shoulder and stood up, swaying ever so slightly as he exited the kitchen and made his way upstairs. He instinctively walked towards Lois's room to take his place at the foot of the bed but stopped about halfway down the hall. After what had happened downstairs, he knew sleeping in the same room as Lois would be...weird, so he changed course, turning towards another bedroom, Stewie's bedroom. He opened the door, and was surprised to find the infant still lying awake in his crib.

Brian stood rooted in the doorway for a minute, swaying slightly like an insecure tree in the wind.

"Oh. Uhhh..." he muttered watching the child slowly sit up straight in bed, the little monster a vampire or mummy raised from his crypt. Stewie's head turned toward him, and the tyke's eyes narrowed.

"What the deuce? Dog?" Stewie seemed strangely awake, thought Brian, as the canine finally swung the door shut behind him and ambled further into the room. Much more alert than himself, and more than the woman he'd left downstairs, too.

 _Lois…_

Brian felt heat go into his face at the thought of her. He was in a daze as he approached the crib.

"Hey, hey, hold up!" protested Stewie, seeing that Brian was attempting to climb inside. "That vile woman may choose to soil her sheets with dog hair, but I for one do not allow pets in the bed. On the floor, if you must be in here."

Brian ignored the child, inexplicably determined to get into the crib, somehow managing to scale the bars without breaking his neck. He felt drunker than when he'd arrived home. He fell back onto the mattress, weak with embarrassment as he absorbed the boy's words, if not the intended meaning.

 _Lois's sheets..._

The dog thought that he whined as he closed his eyes, although he couldn't say for sure why. Out of longing, but longing for what? Longing for Lois? To stop wanting Lois? To have Peter back? To go back to before things were so complicated?

"What the devil is the matter with you?" asked Stewie, standing now, leaning over the dog and looking down at his prone form. A small finger jabbed Brian in the gut.

The canine grunted. "Don't, Stewie," he grumbled, squinting his eyes open at the baby.

Stewie harrumphed. "Don't tell me what to do! I have a right to ask what you're doing here, treating me like a cheap booty call when you've barely spoken to me the past several weeks."

"Suh- since your, your dad died," said Brian softly, sadly. He looked at Stewie, trying to discern a resemblance. There wasn't one, that he could see. Maybe Stewie had been switched at birth. That would explain a lot. "I've been having a hard time. It's been hell." The words fell from his mouth flat and somber, sounding strange. He hadn't talked about his grief much. Who would he talk about it with?

Brian stared up at the ceiling. "There's your proof."

 _I'm suffering, Stewie. I'm suffering. There, you see, I'm not just some opportunist…_

His eyelids had grown excessively heavy, and he yawned hugely, the only answer a confused Stewie got when he asked, "Proof? Proof of what?"

The baby waited, but the dog was asleep.

 _Well, what a fine joke_ , thought Stewie contemptuously, noting how Brian had passed out smack dab in the center of the crib.

 _And I'm actually tired now, too. Five minutes of quasi conversation with that drunken mongrel hound was sufficient to tire me out. Well, how can I be surprised?_

In lieu of anywhere else to sleep, how could it be surprising when the baby awoke, some hours later, with his head resting on the makeshift pillow of Brian's stomach, his fingers interwoven in soft white fur?

* * *

The electricity did not get shut off, and the cable even got turned back on. Lois no longer sat up at night worrying about bills (if she was kept awake at night, it was because other things were weighing on her mind), and the Griffins began to approach what was a new normal for them. This was all because Brian had decided to save the day.

It was in a dog's nature to protect the family, and Brian had decided to protect the family's financial well-being. The day after he found out that it was at the tipping point- and Lois had laid that impulsive kiss on him- he'd gone out looking for a job.

He'd found one quickly enough, and taken the first he was offered. Brian had always considered himself to be a pretty good speaker, and he'd been able to parlay his verbal communication skills into a salesman job. As a Prius driver, it hurt his heart a little each time he really thought about what he was doing, working at a Hummer dealership. As someone who loved his family, however, he found that the hurt was more than offset by the pride his heart felt in knowing he was taking care of them.

The night he came home after getting his first paycheck, he'd offered to take Lois out to dinner. As soon as he'd excitedly blurted out that invitation, he'd seen the look on her face and shuffled his feet self-consciously, wondering how awkward it had sounded to her, that he'd offered to take just her to dinner and not the whole family. And then a gradual smile had shown up on her face and she'd said, "Yeah. That would be nice. Meg can be in charge for a couple hours. Maybe if we leave the kids money for pizza?"

Brian readily agreed, wagging his tail so hard he might almost have wagged it right off.

From then on, Brian and Lois had a standing dinner date every week. Well, not a date. Or maybe they were. Brian was always a bit fuzzy on that.

At least he was initially. The dinners started off semi-awkwardly, not unbearable, though, and with each passing one, the two grew more comfortable. Then, one night, as they were arriving back home, the two just stayed in the car for a moment. There was a tension in the air, something Brian couldn't quite put his finger on, but when he looked over to Lois to ask if she was ok, it all became clear. No sooner had he turned his head did Lois lean in and plant another kiss on his lips. It wasn't like the first kiss, though. She went deeper, and despite a slight niggling of guilt in Brian's stomach, the dog reciprocated happily. They didn't say anything after. Lois went up to her room, and Brian retreated to Stewie's room, actually finding the boy asleep this time. From that point on, Brian knew he and Lois were dating. He was the new man of the house. It was time to move on.

His next move was clear…


	2. Chapter 1: Family Dog

**Chapter 1: Family Dog**

"Alright, Rupert. When last we left Secret Agent Greg…" The baby was kneeling on the floor of his bedroom, assorted playthings spread out before him, while his good buddy Rupert looked on.

"He had just said goodbye to his loving wife…" Stewie pushed a male doll in a suit toward a female doll to make them kiss, before discarding the latter over his shoulder "...and was helicoptering…" he placed the male doll astride a toy helicopter and swooped his arm through the air, making the doll fly through the sky "...to meet with the head of the mysterious Globatech Corporation… Eh? What's that, Rupert?" The boy stopped what he was doing to listen to what his stuffed bear was "saying".

"I don't care if that's a generic name for a company, Rupert!" Stewie snapped, hands on his hips. "You know, sometimes I think you really focus on the wrong things. You're not..." he waggled a finger at the bear judgmentally "...you're not a big picture guy, Rupert."

The baby had the helicopter arrive behind a dollhouse. Or, as he put it, "the palatial mansion of the head of Globatech Corporation". Another suited-up male doll emerged from the dollhouse. Stewie talked for him.

"Ah. Secret Agent Gay- I mean, Greg," Stewie-as-doll-executive quickly amended. "Surely you didn't think you could sneak in the back undetected? If you're here to investigate me, may I suggest you come inside, and we begin this conversation over some mojitos?"

"Alright, Stewie." The door to the child's room opened, and Lois stepped inside, stooping down with arms outstretched to collect him. "We're gonna have a family meeting, so I need everybody downstairs right now."

The tot dropped his toys and immediately began to struggle, "What? Nooooo! I'm in the middle of something important here, you vile woman! Unhand me this instant!"

As per usual, his protests went ignored, and soon, he gave up in a huff folding his arms and staring forward scoldingly as his mother carried him downstairs and placed him on the couch in between his two horrible excuses for siblings. He looked over and saw Brian sitting off to the side in the recliner, a blank expression on his face, leg crossed over the other, and sort of rubbing his hands together, what...nervously? Was that it? He couldn't tell. Not that he honestly cared that much. There was silence awhile. The child turned back to address his mother, becoming rather annoyed.

"Well? What was so important that you had to drag me away from my activities? Hmmm? Out with it, woman! I don't have all bloody day!"

As if she had actually heard her son this time, Lois began speaking.

"Kids, I know we've all been going through a hard time these past couple of months, and that it's still going to take more time before things feel normal in this house again. But, at the end of the day, we should all be grateful. Things could have been a lot worse…"

She paused as if contemplating her words before inhaling and continuing.

"It's terrible that we lost your father, but aside from the pain that comes from that, we've still been able to maintain our quality of life here. We still have a roof over our heads. We still have electricity, running water, food on the table. We even still have cable. It's practically a miracle, and I couldn't have done it on my own. You all have one person to thank for taking care of you through this tough time."

The boy watched as her gaze shifted over towards the dog in the chair. His arms unfolded, and his head tilted curiously as she continued.

"Despite hurting just as much as all of us, Brian was still there. He remained strong for us. Strong for me…"

She walked over to the dog who was now wringing his hands a bit and knelt down at the side of the chair, taking his hand into her own. Stewie's cold expression fell into one of confusion.

 _What the devil..?_

"If not for Brian, we could have lost everything."

The woman was tearing up now. The boy turned his eyes towards the interlocked hands of woman and dog, unable to pull his gaze away, not quite processing the action. Lois was caressing that paw quite...tenderly. And what was that? Did she have a new ring?

 _Where did she get…_

His eyes went wide.

 _No…_

He turned his head, finally looking away to refocus his attention on Brian's face, only to be surprised when he found the canine looking right at him. Their eyes met, and Stewie could tell Brian could read through his puzzled expression. He knew. He knew Stewie knew.

Lois was finally pulling herself together.

"I can never repay this man, right here, for all he has done for this family in such a short time. He's not only kept us afloat, but he's provided a sense of comfort that I was afraid I'd never be able to feel again. He's taken up the mantle of man of this house, and well...we've decided to make that official."

The two turned and smiled at each other, Lois nodding her head as if giving him the go ahead. Brian took a deep breath and turned back to address the children on the couch.

"Kids, me and your mother have decided to marry."

An awkward silence fell over the room. Stewie still had his eyes locked on Brian, trying to discern every minute detail of the dog's expression. He seemed happy enough. Of course, this should come as no surprise. He knew how the canine felt about his mother. This must have been a dream come true for him. ...Something was off, though.

"Mom? Don't you think this a little...soon?"

The voice of Meg pulled Stewie back to the events at hand. He looked over at his sister, nodding in agreement, an automatic response.

"We understand your concern, honey, but me and Brian have talked about this a lot. It's time we all got back on our feet, and having Brian more securely in this role will help bring us stability. This is good for all of us."

Lois said this with a warm smile, obviously trying to ease her daughter's mind. Stewie couldn't tell if she had succeeded. It certainly hadn't worked on him…

"Sooooo…"

Chris finally spoke up.  
"Brian is my new daddy?"

Stewie shivered at the words.

 _Daddy…_

Brian spoke.

"Now, Chris, I could never replace your father. That's not what I'm trying to do. Do I care about this family, though? Yes. There's nothing I care about more. Do I want to help you guys heal after our tragic loss? Yes. If that requires me filling the role that Peter left… Then, that's what I'm willing to do."

Stewie rolled his eyes at Brian's roundabout response.

 _In simpler terms he'd actually be able to understand: "Yes, son!"_

There was silence again. Lois cleared her throat to break it.

"So, are there any more questions? We all understand what's happening here?"

Stewie motioned as if to address his mother but did not speak, knowing his words would simply go ignored by her.

 _Uh, yes, I have one, mother dearest. You do realize how awful you're being here? Right? Hmmm!? Because I'm pretty sure there's a social convention that says you should wear your widow's weeds for longer than this, you harlot._

He glared at her, trying to at least get across how terrible he thought she was. I mean, really, this was madness. Was Stewie the only one who could see how crazy this was? He'd seen some crazy things in his time, but in his astute opinion, this took the cake. The skank ignored him, though, only adding to his ever increasing displeasure at things. His arms folded once more as he stared the "couple" down. When Brian did finally turn back to look at him, his soft smile fell. The boy smirked at him.

 _Good. You should feel terrible, dog._

They continued to watch each other, Stewie keeping up an expression of smug superiority while Brian actually seemed seriously uncomfortable. It was, for several long moments, as if the canine had lost the taste for the triumph he'd intended to savor, and the infant was at least pleased that his shaming glare could put a sour flavor in that mutt's mouth.

But then, Lois started speaking again, standing up after giving Brian's paw one last squeeze, and resting her hands on the back of his chair, ring once more displayed prominently.

"Good. We've agreed there won't be a long engagement. No point to that. We've decided we want to be married…" The woman paused and drew on a long, audible breath. Far from a totally joyous engagement announcement, the stress was obviously getting to her. "And so, well...we're just going to go ahead and get married. Soon."

Brian had regained a semblance of a smile, and when his bride-to-be bent over him and asked, in an awkward, haltering sort of voice, "Didn't we agree that's for the best? ...D-D-Dear?" she smiled tautly, but the dog practically beamed.

"We did, honey. No sense in waiting," he agreed, nodding around at the room, while studiously avoiding eye contact with Stewie.

"So that's it, then," said Lois briskly, straightening up. She gestured toward the kitchen. "Meeting adjourned and dinner is served. I made a roast to celebrate. It should be done by now."

Chris and Meg got up and shuffled after her, still looking pretty dumbfounded, but as Brian started climbing out of his chair, Stewie stopped him by humming the wedding march, with a more than slightly psychotic tinge to it.

He saw the canine's shoulders sag as the dog turned to look at him.

"You realize how royally stupid this whole thing is, right?"

Brian immediately went on the defensive, retorting in a loud whisper, so as not to attract attention from the next room.

"Why? _Why_ is it stupid, Stewie? Do tell. With your- with your _vast_ knowledge of human relationships and human feelings!"

The child snorted. "And what do you know from human, _dog_? What a lowdown, mangy thing to do. Well, you always did want to take his place, didn't you? Congratulations. You got what you wanted," he drawled, clasping his hands behind his back and rocking back and forth on his heels, smiling unpleasantly.

"I'm _not_ taking his place!" Brian argued. "What did I _just_ say to Chris?" He then dropped his seething demeanor and attempted to swap it for dismissiveness, gesturing with his paw as though to wave away Stewie's criticism. "Clearly, you're just not mature enough to understand the situation. There are a lot of factors in play-"

"You're thinking with your dick," Stewie interrupted, glaring. "And how _DARE_ you talk about my maturity level?!" The child was extremely indignant. He was surprised that Brian's comment actually... _hurt_. Unlike the remarks about him lacking proper human emotions, this one actually felt personal. He balled his hands into fists at his sides. "What the _hell_ do you know about me, Brian? You think just because...because of my chronological age, and because we've- we've shared a lark or two, that you're fit to judge me? You'll never even come _close_ to understanding me, you plebian perisher! I've shared nothing at all important with you. You go around, panting after your heart's desires for all to see, but I'm a little deeper. A little more elevated. You're all surface, _dog_ , and you are lowly!" he spat, wondering for a moment if he may be going apoplectic, and decided to reign himself in. At the very least, by focusing on defending himself, he was losing track of the goal at hand. _He_ wasn't on trial. That miserable curr they called _Brian_ was.

"I've seen things you will never be privy to," the baby went on, composedly now. "Done things you will never accomplish. And I understand more than your puny canine mind will ever grasp."

"Brian?" called Lois from the kitchen. "Is Stewie getting fussy?"

"Very much so, Lois, but it'll be fine!" Brian hollered back, his tone more assuring than the look on his face. With his next words, directed at the angry infant opposite him, he also sounded rattled.

"What- what you were describing, Stewie," he started, plainly trying (and failing) to put on his best older-and-wiser voice, "when you were, uh, talking about about things I can't understand, because I've never seen or done them? That's just…" he laughed nervously "...that's just the human experience. There are things _I've_ seen and done that you'll never fully get, either. W-W-We don't share the same...perspective, because we don't have the same life experiences, you see?"

"You calmed him down?" came Lois's voice again, to which Brian replied, after an uncertain moment of hesitation,

"Yeah! I'll take him up to bed, if you want, honey! I don't think he wants supper!"

Stewie cackled hysterically. "Send me to bed without supper, huh? Oh, bravo you, and your disciplining me for telling the truth! And just _what the hell_ were you blithering on about with that malarky you just spewed? Been hitting the parenting advice books already? Well, save it."

The boy pivoted on his foot and pointed himself in the direction of the stairs. "And no need to take me to bed, either. You're not my father. And you're not my friend." He strolled out of the room and onto the staircase, continuing to drop bombs. "And while I'm at it," he shouted, without even bothering to look back, "I may as well ask if you're deluded enough to believe that Lois loves you, or ever could love you, in that way. You'll never be anything more than the family dog."

That said, the child pounded the rest of the way up the stairs as fast as his little legs could carry him. He couldn't _believe_ this ridiculous family. Just when he thought it couldn't get more idiotic and dysfunctional, he was proven wrong. Now here was his mother, only a couple months after the death of his father, selling herself to the family dog like a leg of mutton about to go bad. And of course, that flea-bitten scoundrel, Dead Daddy's supposed best friend, was salivating at the prospect. Now Stewie would have a stepdoggy, and…

 _And you think that I don't understand this situation?_ Stewie thought heatedly as he made his way to his room. _You, dog, you think that I'm being childish about this? I'm the only one who sees things for what they are!"_

He had no desire to be an obedient little tyke, and toddle off to bed like he'd been told, but once he was in his room, he instinctively sought the refuge of his crib, as a comfortable spot to have some peace and reflect.

 _You would insult my intelligence like that?_ Stewie was still arguing with Brian in his head. And he found, as he settled himself back against the pillows, intending only to sulk, that he actually _was_ somewhat tired. He let out a yawn.

 _I see things for what they are… I thought you saw me… At least a little bit…_

His thoughts were muddled as he fell into sleep. He only vaguely realized, as slumber was claiming him, that he felt...betrayed.

* * *

Unlike most _huge_ events that occurred in his home, Stewie found that this was something that he couldn't just brush off with a roll of his eyes and a snarky comment. Over the next several days, his mind was constantly racing with thoughts regarding the pairing of his mother and his best...uh...his dog. It was to the point that even he began to wonder why he cared about this so much, and it was driving him mad.

"Kids, I need everyone in the living room. I have a biiiiiig announcement to make."

The baby was on the floor of his room, clutching a small female doll and using a high-pitched voice as he made it speak to three other dolls he had lying off to the side. He made the three dolls representing the kids walk over and have a seat next to the mommy doll on the floor. The boy sighed.

He'd even spent the last several days actively avoiding that awful woman and Brian. He just had no desire to see either or them, afraid the simple sight of them would turn his stomach and make him ill.

 _Must be allergic to morons…_

After all the doll children had gathered together, the mommy doll walked over to stand next to another male doll that was sitting just off to the side. He made the daughter speak like a valley girl to make the two females distinct..

"Uhhhhhh, ok, _mother_. What do you want?"

Then, the youngest, this time speaking in his normal voice.

"Why, yes, please get on with it. Me and my siblings don't have all day."

Then the middle child, the other brother who was represented by a dopey voice.

"Duuuuuh, I'm bored!"

It wasn't like Stewie honestly cared that much about Brian and Lois doing wrong by the fatman. God, as if he honestly cared _that_ much about the fatman. But, Brian was being a hypocrite, especially after what he'd said at the funeral. It was just...wrong. Stewie knew that much, and he didn't like it one bit.

He looked over to Rupert, who was sitting off to the other side of the room watching him. The infant shot the bear a scowl before continuing with his playtime, making the mommy doll laugh and bat her hand dismissively.

 _Bitch…_

"Don't rush me, kids. Me and Brad here have big news."

And without a single moment of hesitation, that news was delivered with exaggerated joy through gritted baby teeth.

"We're getting maaaaaaarrrrrrrrriiiiiied!"

Stewie found he was clutching the doll quite tightly and loosened his grip before taking a breath to calm himself. He looked back over to Rupert who was still just sitting there...watching. The boy just rolled his eyes and continued as the youngest spoke again.

"But, mother! That's such a bad idea! What? Are you, retarded?!"

Now, Brad interjected.

"Steven, don't talk to your mother that way!"

Steven shot back angrily.

"Don't fucking tell me what to do you horn dog! I see what's going on here, and it's pathetic! You're not my father! She doesn't love you! You're just being used and going along with it because you finally have a shot at getting in her ugly pants! Ahhhhhhh!"

He chucked the male doll across the room, feeling his body beginning to shake with a rage that was all too familiar now. It took him a second to compose himself, setting the mommy doll down and looking back over at where Rupert was sitting.

"What?"

He shot over at his teddy bear.

"What's your problem? I see you over there silently judging me. You have something to say to me? Be a fucking man and say it."

At this, the bear finally spoke up, asking just why it was that Stewie was so bothered by this. It didn't seem like him to care so much. The child just chuckled mirthlessly.

"It's just so _stupid_ , Rupert! And you know how much I hate morons. I'm surrounded by morons! At least Brian acted like he actually had a brain, most of the time, but now, after this, oh no! He's proven to be the biggest idiot in this bloody household now that the fatman is gone. It's frustrating constantly being surrounded by such stupidity. I have no one here that shows even one iota of common sense, and I have to live with these people! So, yes, forgive me for being so _bothered_ by the proof that I am truly alone in my own home."

There was silence. The bear said nothing back, and the infant scoffed.

 _Yeah. That's what I thought. Nothing to say now, huh?_

Suddenly, the door opened. The baby turned and was shocked to find Brian simply waltzing into his room, casually tapping his paw against the door frame.

"Knock. Knock."

Stewie rolled his eyes and had to keep himself from practically growling as he spoke.

"What do _you_ want?"

The canine made a face like he wanted to flinch away, but he remained standing firm as he slowly shut the door and began taking steps towards the boy.

"Look, Stewie. We need to talk."

The child took one step back before realizing what he was doing and instead standing firm himself. He folded his arms and huffed.

"Oh. Do we, now?"

Brian sighed as he came to stand by the infant before kneeling down and placing a hand on his shoulder, speaking gently.

"Yes. We do."

He squeezed. Stewie felt his body grow tense. A silence followed before Stewie finally couldn't bear it anymore.

"S-So are you going to say whatever it is you feel you need to say or are you going to just sit there groping me all day?"

Brian's face went blank, but he didn't remove his paw as he obviously contemplated his next words.

"I just…"  
He paused, forcing himself to meet the baby's eyes.

"I just want things to be good between us."

Stewie tilted his head.

"Good between us?"

The dog nodded.

"Well, yeah. I mean, this whole...marriage thing, I can tell it's upsetting you. You have to understand that's not what I wanted. You and me, well, things were good between us, right? It was rough there, at first, but we were starting to get along more often than not, even if we could still both be jerks to each other. We're better off now than we were before. At least that's how I feel, and I'd just...I'd really like to keep it that way, Stewie. I know this is a big change, but I care about you, kiddo. I just want you to remember that. I'm doing this for the family. I'm doing this for you. It's for the best. I believe that, even if you hate me for it…"

He looked down and let go of the child's shoulder.

"But I don't want you to hate me."

Stewie could tell that Brian was trying, in his own way, to be sincere, and he could at least appreciate that. He inhaled and unfolded his arms, his expression growing ever so slightly softer.

"I don't hate you. Ok? Brian, I don't hate you. I just think you're making a big mistake. I can't help but see this whole thing as incredibly stupid. You could at the very least try giving it more time. Do you even realize what you're jumping into here?"

The dog finally looked back up.

"As I said before, I can understand your concerns. And...in a way...I appreciate them. But, me and Lois did give this a lot of thought. I promise you that. This is the right move. This is for the best."

The infant rolled his eyes and sighed, feeling frustration boiling in his gut again but trying to keep his cool, at least for now.

"You really believe that? You're sure beyond a shadow of a doubt? Because that's what this is going to take. This isn't some small change. It's going to be like living in a completely different world. If things go wrong, they're going to go _really_ wrong."

For the briefest moment, Stewie thought he caught a hint of uncertainty in the canine's expression, but if it had been there, it was quickly masked as the dog smiled and replied, "I believe that, Stewie. I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

The child fought the urge to shake his head and instead forced his own smile in return.

"Well, I guess I can't change that. All I can do is...wish you two...the best."

The infant felt his stomach turn at the words, but he knew there was no talking sense into the mutt and a part of him did share Brian's sentiment. Things were good between them. Why couldn't they stay that way? Why lose a friend over this? As he mulled things over, he was taken off guard when he felt the dog's furry arms wrap around him and pull him into a hug. Without thinking about it much, he opted to return the gesture, casually bringing his arms around the furry animal in return, feeling so very awkward as he did it. Brian gave him a firm squeeze and kissed his forehead.

"Thanks, sport. That means a lot."

The boy said nothing, simply feeling confused, enjoying the embrace in his own way but wanting to recoil at the words the dog had spoken, at the use of the word 'sport'. It didn't feel right. None of this felt right. Finally, Brian released him, shooting him one last warm smile before briskly standing and making his way back out of the room. Stewie just continued to stand there, trying to process the rush of emotions he was feeling. For the first time in his life, he was baffled. He didn't know how to feel about any of this. He didn't know what was going to happen. He was just...uncomfortable, and he felt sick. Why did he care so much? Why were these circumstances bringing out such strong emotions within him? How could a genius like him not be able to figure something so simple out? He reached up to rub at his temples feeling a headache coming on as his mind raced.

 _God, I need an Anacin…_

* * *

They hadn't lied about "soon". The engagement lasted about as long as the courtship. _Well, the official courtship,_ Stewie reflected. _Not counting the time Brian spent trying to win her over before the fatman died. Which must date from the day the dog was brought home._

The youngest Griffin child was trying to make his peace with Lois and Brian's changed relationship and forthcoming marriage, though, he honestly was, and felt like he should get a medal for how well he was doing with that, even if he wasn't exactly happy about his world being flipped upside down in this manner.

The family prepared for the wedding, and all the motions were gone through. Stewie half expected, this being that vile woman's second marriage and one of convenience, for her to be so unromantic about it that there would be a weekday civil service at the courthouse or something, with Lois clad in her customary discount housewife frumpery and Brian in only his collar.

However, a full wedding _was_ planned, though planned for in a rush. One day, Lois chose _Meg_ of all people to accompany her on a shopping trip, during which she came back with a wedding dress. Stewie had yet to see it, but was willing to bet, with the decision having only been left in the hands of _those_ two, that whether that gown contained a train or not, that red-headed harpy was going to be a train _wreck_. Oh, well. Not that Stewie had wanted to go along. Not that he would give either that ridiculous cow or this ridiculously bad idea of a marriage the favor of his aid. He'd promised himself he wouldn't hinder, but that didn't mean promising to help.

The boy _had_ almost been invited to go along with Brian to pick out the groom's tux. Stewie didn't need special canine olfactory powers to sniff out that plot a'brewin', after overhearing the dog in the kitchen with Chris. It had involved a hastily drawn picture of the park (that embarrassed Stewie's true artistic talents) and taking it to Lois while stabbing his finger at it until he wanted to stab _her_ more than usual, but the woman had finally gotten what he was driving at and taken him out of the house before Brian could ask. Thus, he made his escape.

A wedding with all the trappings meant a rehearsal, and before long, they found themselves at the appointed day. The real big day would be the following, but still, there seemed to be a certain gravity about this one. Stewie woke up with a feeling that seemed like a portent, like having to go through this vision of things to come made everything much more real. It wasn't even the wedding day, but knowing the preview was coming up brought forth all the trepidation of being about to see into the future. Here they were, stepping through the portal into their new universe.

Maybe Lois felt it, too, because she made herself conspicuously scarce all day. With a frazzled air about her, she ran in and out of the house, claiming to still have a million little things left to do for the wedding. Stewie mostly kept to himself as rehearsal time grew nigh, hanging out in the living room with his building blocks and occasionally watching T.V. Now and then he saw her hurrying past, but some time in the mid afternoon, she seemingly vanished.

The plan was to leave at 5, and meet the minister at the church at 5:30. After the rehearsal, they were all to go out to a nice dinner. The male Griffins were in their suits, and Meg had put on a dress, and they were waiting for Lois to come back to the house.

Brian seemed nervous as he sat on the couch, tapping on the crystal of his watch. It was five minutes after 5, and they'd all been sitting there, waiting in their dress clothes, for about a half an hour.

His siblings were getting bored, Stewie could tell. Brian watched the window and his ears perked up with every car passing by on the street.

"I wonder where Mom could be," Meg sighed for the twentieth time, staring tiredly at the T.V. screen. Renee Zellweger showed off her "hidden talent" siphoning a two-foot-high mountain of ants from a plate while on the Ellen Degeneres show, and the audience cheered and counted down with the timer.

Brian twitched at her words. He tugged at his necktie, and for a white dog, he seemed somehow paler. He was acting as though he felt vaguely ill, and Stewie took a bit of pity on him, scooting closer.

"I'm sure it's just traffic," the baby muttered. "Or, you know, she ran into some gal pal while out someplace. They probably just started clucking away like two hens, you know how women are." He chuckled and elbowed Brian's arm.

The dog gave a dry, obviously-forced laugh and a weak smile. "Of course. I-I guess I'll have to get used to, uh, things like that happening, huh, kid? Wives must do things like that to their husbands all the time. I...I'm just a little concerned she may have...broken down somewhere, or something. Her car. Guess I-I can't stop my mind from going there." He chuckled again, ruefully. "I just love her so much…"

"Wait, did you say Mom had a car accident?" Chris screeched, his head whipping around, eyes gone wide. "Oh, my god, I'm an orphan!"

At that moment, the phone rang, and Meg reached over to answer it as Chris yelled that it was the graveyard calling. Meg put her hand over the transmitter.

"It's Mom!"

Their ignoramus brother shrieked and asked if she was sure it wasn't "Zombie Mom calling, or a ghost!"

Rolling her eyes, Meg replied, "I'm sure." and resumed talking to the tardy bride-to-be.

Stewie tried to hold himself back, but before he knew it, he was flashing a smirk over at Brian and saying, "Hey, if we're going to be getting phone calls from ghosties and ghoulies at the graveyard, I'm betting it would more likely come from some supernatural form of the dearly departed fatman, wanting to know why his best buddy's preparing to marry his wife, amirite?"

But, in his defense, the infant then smiled much more good-naturedly, to let on that it was only a friendly ribbing.

Meg hung up the phone and announced to them all, "You were right, Brian. It was some car trouble, but nothing serious. Mom says just to meet her at the church."

* * *

"That car trouble must have been worse than she thought."

They sat together on the altar, the dog looking totally downcast.

Well, Brian _had_ just been left at the altar. Literally, yet somehow...unofficially. This was only the rehearsal, but the implications could still be the same. Nobody seemed all that interested in being reassuring.

Meg had been able to muster, "Mom is coming. I don't think she would've put us through all this for nothing."

Meanwhile, Chris whined about being hungry and wanting to go to McBurgertown for a kid's meal. (Nevermind that wasn't where the family had planned on eating afterward.) Babs and Carter had come to the rehearsal, as Carter was meant to give away the bride, and Lois's father kept repeating that hopefully she had wised up, because,

"First she married that brainless lard ass- God rest his fat, stupid soul- and now she's marrying an actual dog? This is getting ridiculous!"

The priest had disappeared into some chamber somewhere, and that left Brian and Stewie. Sitting on the steps of the altar. It was a quarter to 6.

The canine was now openly sulking, which was most tedious to Stewie. Ever since the fatman died, it had just been relationship dysfunction surrounding poor ole Stu, all day, every day! ...Of a different sort than he'd been used to before, obviously.

"She's standing me up," Brian muttered forlornly, seemingly more to himself than to the baby beside him. "She's actually doing this. Why? Why would she…?"

The priest reappeared and pointed at the clock.

"Folks, we do need to get a move-on. This rehearsal is due to be over with at 6:30, and then I have to start setting up for something else. Although you are all welcome to stay for church casino night."

"I thought the church didn't approve of gambling?" asked Meg tentatively, sitting bored in her front-row pew.

"Hmm?" responded the priest distractedly. "Oh, well...you're forgetting that verse about...all work and no playing, er, making Johnny a dull boy...and always bet on red and…" He stifled a yawn while sidling back toward the door he'd just emerged from. "Look, just hurry it along." And he exited again.

Brian sighed heavily, and Stewie turned to look at him. The child was startled to see tears actually welling up in the canine's eyes. Stewie felt a pang. He still found the wedding and everything related to it to be entirely annoying, but now...good god, was he actually feeling sorry for the poor jilted fool? What was happening to him?

The dog pinched the bridge of his nose, and with his paws up by his eyes, contrived to wipe the tears away.

"I don't understand," he muttered. "I was good. I was so good…"

Carter stood up from his pew. "C'mon, Babs, let's just head home. It appears for the moment as though Lois has come to her senses. I don't like to leave that new maid alone in the house without one of us to watch her. Just _what_ is she doing with all that Lemon Pledge? She always needs more!"

With that, Carter and Babs were gone, and Stewie's oafish brother and sister were immaturely scuffing their shoes against the floor to create an irritating squeaking sound.

It was getting on the infant's last nerve.

"Hey!" he snapped loudly and severely. "Cut that out, the both of you! Go sit in the car! I think Brian's got some prestige magazine in there that he subscribes to in order to look smart. You can look at the pictures. Now, it's a warm day, so make sure you leave the windows rolled all the way up."

Whether or not they were going to take all of Stewie's suggestions, Chris and Meg did get up and leave the church. The baby and the dog remained sitting together. The former cleared his throat awkwardly while gazing at his companion's hangdog expression. The infant was unsure of his next course of action, and wanted nothing as much as to make a snide remark, but found that for some inexplicable reason, he was unable to.

Yes, the dog, maybe the one person in the world Stewie didn't hate, was suffering, but bloody hell, he'd _earned_ that suffering, hadn't he? Sure, all he was trying to do was find love and happiness with the woman he'd been- bafflingly- besotted with at first sight. But wasn't this about what Stewie had warned him would happen? He'd tried to make that maddening mutt see reason, and if anything, Lois not showing at the church today was probably a blessing. Better this happened sooner rather than later. This unholy union was probably doomed to begin with, and if Brian couldn't see that… Well, Stewie'd be damned if he was going to pick up the pieces of the heart the dog had recklessly bet on _red_.

And yet...the baby couldn't stop thinking about when Brian had come to his room and fondled his shoulder. His little hand twitched at his side. He lifted his arm once or twice, debating on whether to grasp the canine's shoulder. Why should he be there for Brian? What had Brian ever done for him? He might claim to care, but-

Jolly Farm. The memory probably came to him because of the fantasy connection. That was an instance in which Stewie had been duped by the foul treachery of fantasy. He had thought Jolly Farm would be everything he ever wanted, but it had all turned out to be a grand deception. The dog had told him that running away to Jolly Farm was folly, but he hadn't given him an "I told you so", at the end, had he? _There_ was a good, loyal dog. _There_ was man's best friend. Somebody who realized that giving comfort was more important than being right. Somebody who would...hold you when you were down. Somebody who would poop in Mother Maggie's shoes.

Since Lois's shoes weren't available at the moment, Stewie inched closer until their arms brushed, then slowly turned toward the canine and hugged him from the side. Tentative at first. Then, reasoning if Brian would try and shame him for a kind gesture from whatever goodness was in the evil baby genius's heart, the dog was nothing but an irredeemable douchebag, Stewie put his full weight behind that hug, holding fast.

Brian didn't respond, just allowed it to happen and looked numb. The priest popped his head out again.

"Oh! I heard people leaving. I thought everyone had left."

Brian raised his head and looked up at the priest as he'd probably never looked at a man of the cloth before, with liquid, pleading eyes.

"She could still come. She changed her mind once, she can change it back. It would just be the two of us here, now."

 _Well!_ thought Stewie huffily. _Thanks a lot!_ He leaned away from the canine.

"We'd run through the rehearsal real quick," continued Brian. "All she has to do is show up in the next ten to fifteen minutes."

With a look that was part pitying, part annoyed, the priest walked over to Brian and lay a hand on the dog's shoulder.

"Love is patient," the holy man droned. "Love is kind. It does not envy. It does not boast. It is not proud. But maybe you could be patient, kind, without envy, without boasting, and without _pride_ at home. Maybe you could go wait _at home_ for her to come back so you can hash this out."

Brian and Stewie both glared, and the man cleared his throat. He shrugged his shoulders in a much put upon way.

"Fine. I just thought maybe I'd get some time to myself, before I have to deal with the crap of the crapshooters."

"I believe that would be holy crap!" Stewie quipped, but his joke went unacknowledged.

"I'll tell you what," said the priest to Brian. "I'll give you ten more minutes to collect your thoughts and maybe clear out of here, huh?" He went back the way he came and disappeared into his chamber again.

Stewie grabbed Brian's paw and stood up, tugging on it. "Come on, Brian, we might as well just leave. He does have a point about how all of this can be done at home. Even if Lois…" he hesitated, saying anything reassuring about Lois to the dog feeling so wrong, but he powered through. Since he was doing this new thing now. Trying to have a friend.

"Even if she decides she was wrong not to come today," the infant continued, "or even if that car trouble _was_ worse than she thought, I'm sure she wouldn't want us waiting around here all day. Weddings aren't rocket science. People figure them out without a rehearsal. You wait here, at this end of the aisle. She starts down there- " Stewie pointed toward the entrance to the auditorium, "and walks up the aisle toward you. Then you say some words. Easy peasy."

Brian looked reluctant. "You don't get it, kid." He groaned and shook his head. "Of course you don't, and I don't blame you for that, but if I leave right now… As soon as I leave this church, I'm admitting that today was a failure, and if today was a failure- "

The boy had had enough of this. Interrupting Brian, he asked briskly, "So you need a rehearsal before you can leave, hmm? Is that it? Okay, fine, fine, we'll do a rehearsal!" His voice grew louder until he was shouting, and while he was speaking, he was running down to the opposite end of the aisle, determined to give that gormless would-be groom what he wanted, or mock him, he wasn't sure which.

Stewie began a slow walk toward Brian. Like the day he and Lois had announced their betrothal, Stewie sang out a hysterical version of the wedding march. Brian was finally on his feet again.

"Oh, knock it off, what are you doing?" the dog hollered to the child. "What is this going to help?"

"Relax, dog!" Stewie called back. "I'm just standing in for Lois! You said you needed a rehearsal. Now you'll know what the ceremony will be like with her tomorrow."

The canine appeared somewhat queasy. "I did _not_ say that! I need Lois here now, and you know why!"

"Is the visualization a problem? You don't see your blushing bride heading toward you? I assure you, I look quite striking in a dress, as well."

"Yeah, no doubt striking is one word for it. Stewie, just so you know, you're not really even giving out hints anymore, you're just making statements." Brian seemed to be shaking some of his gloom, if only from the power of falling into old patterns.

The jibes didn't phase Stewie. Quite the contrary; they almost made things feel ordinary.

Ordinary, even though he was rehearsing his mother's wedding to the family dog in her place, all because the family dog was devastated and Stewie actually cared for some reason.

"Now, your part is easy right now, you just stand there," the infant instructed. " _I'm_ the one who's got to work the runway." He started to sashay his hips, doing his best model walk.

"You look ridiculous," declared the dog, his tone drained, but he was seemingly willing to play along. "That's not how a bride walks at all."

"I say, Brian," said Stewie, nearing the end of his walk, "you act rather _fagged_. Don't look so happy to see your bride. You'd better not have this attitude tomorrow. Show a little gaiety!"

"Oh, I think you've got enough for the both of us," Brian replied dryly. His expression twisted into a frown. "Stewie, you know as well as I do that if tomorrow happens as planned, I will be standing up here, the happiest son of a bitch in the world. But you shouldn't treat tomorrow like a given- "

He was beginning to sound exasperated and, worse, once again self-pitying. That wouldn't do.

"What a lovely philosophical practice, dog!" the baby raved blithely. "You're absolutely right: we _shouldn't_ treat tomorrow as a given. All we have is the present. We've got to seize the moment!"

The child hopped into place beside the woebegone dog and took his paws into his hands. Brian looked at him in surprise. Stewie cleared his throat dramatically. "If the priest were here, he'd get us started, of course, but after that come the vows." He gave a lengthy pause, then eyed the canine critically. "You didn't write your own, did you?" He made sure it sounded more like a warning than a question.

"No, Lois didn't want to, and she said it would be stupid if only one of us had personalized vows. But what's with that look and that tone? I'll have you know I could've written my vows in a sonnet that would put Shakespeare- "

Stewie let out a loud combination cough and snort, emphatically waving his arms in front of himself like an umpire. "Um, NO. No, let's just stop you right there. First of all, can you give me the definition of a sonnet, Brian? To say nothing of your writing... _skills_. God, what arrogance. No wonder Lois went flee-ancée on her F-L-E-A ancé."

Noting Brian's hurt and angry look, the child changed tack and grabbed the canine's paws again. "But I'm certain that's only temporary. Where were we? Love, cherish, honor, and- well, I'll wager they'll have kept in 'obey' as one of the things you promise to do. Since you're a dog."

Brian sighed, and Stewie expected him to take issue with that comment, but when he met the mutt's eyes, they were soft and vulnerable. The baby felt a jolt in his gut. The paws in his hands were suddenly very heavy. Stewie suddenly felt...weird. This rehearsal felt weird, and he didn't know why.

"Stewie, you really _are_ trying to help me, aren't you, kid?" Brian said forlornly, gaze locked on his infant companion's. "But there's no distracting me from the truth." Breaking eye contact, he looked down at their joined hands and squeezed Stewie's. The boy was riveted and repulsed at the same time. This was too...too... _close_. He wanted to yank his hands back and run away. But he didn't. He just stared at the dog's downcast features, and instead of squirming out of physical reach, he just let his insides squirm...most peculiarly.

Barking a mirthless chuckle, Brian went on. "I really thought this was going to be something special." He looked back up at the baby. "It- it felt right. I mean, I wasn't lying when I said that I thought this was for the best. I really felt that way. I _feel_ that way. Not to mention, it's what I've always wanted. The love of a good woman. A family that I wasn't just brought into, but that I was central to!" His voice rose in passion and volume as he spoke. "Not that," he added quickly, "I don't appreciate being taken in in the first place. I'm grateful, Stewie, I'm so grateful."

 _Are my hands sweating?_ thought the baby. _Ewww, do my hands sweat? They never used to. So now I'm just some gross, sweaty guy? Can Brian feel the sweat on my hands?"_

"Anyway…" Brian exhaled long and low. Maybe he could feel sweat, because he released Stewie's hands. "I guess it didn't feel right to her, after all. Let's go home."

"Wait!" cried the baby, startling both himself and the dog. Brian looked at him questioningly, and Stewie forced a carefree laugh.

"Let the child finish feeling like he's helping. We're almost done running through this thing. Are you really that anxious to get home and brood? What if it turns out you need this information tomorrow?"

Brian rolled his eyes. "I _know_ this information."

"Oh, yeah, smart guy?" Stewie challenged. "What is it?"

"Are you freaking kidding me?" the canine asked incredulously. He plainly wanted to leave now, so...mission accomplished? He was visibly mystified over Stewie's insistence on completing the charade, and the boy wanted to slap him. It wasn't like Stewie knew what was going on either!

"Okay...so." Brian massaged his temples. "We left off at the vows? Well, then, that's practically it, isn't it? There'd be the part with the rings… And then the priest would pronounce us married. There? Did I prove I know what I'm doing?"

"Not by a long shot," said Stewie crisply, letting Brian take that as he may. "But I suppose that _is_ it, apart from sealing it with a kiss." And that was when an idea leapt to his mind, one as unhinged as any the mad scientist baby had ever had. And the best part was, he could play it all off as a joke.

He reached out and stroked Brian's chest, walking his little fingers up and down it and reveling in the dog's stupefied expression. He batted his lashes at the canine. "How about one last hoorah? Wanna kiss one last new person before you can't kiss anyone else for the rest of your life?" He drew nearer, leaning in and leaning in, about to close the gap…

"Time's up!" The voice of the priest was built for the pulpit, and rang out across the room. Stewie turned toward the source of it, feeling as though he'd just woken from a hypnotic state.

The priest was giving them an odd look, probably owing to the fact that a dog and a baby were standing at the altar of his church with their bodies pressed up against each other and the baby's hands resting on the dog's chest. Bloody hell, they were posed like a romance novel cover!

"Yeah, you've got plenty to work out, don't you?" said the priest tonelessly. "But at home," he added sternly, pointing them out the door.

Brian gave Stewie a gentle push back. "Just when I thought today couldn't get any worse. Let's go." He started to make his way out of the auditorium, with the child following behind.

The boy schooled his face to assume its customary impassive and mildly annoyed expression. Nobody must sense anything was amiss. Luckily, as he caught up with Brian and snuck an inconspicuous look at him, the canine didn't seem stuck back on what just happened. He just seemed sad again, thank heavens to Betsy. Not a word was uttered between them on the way out to the car, where Meg and Chris sighed loudly in relief at the sight of them and told them it was about time.

All was not right behind the youngest Griffin's scowl. During the ride home, his highly advanced brain worked at warp speed, trying to unravel what was behind that weird sort of sensation he felt in the church. It was like no phenomenon he'd ever heard of- instead of a come-to-Jesus moment, he'd had a come-on-to-Brian moment!

In his effort to make sense of things, Stewie endeavored to find a point of reference. And then was stunned to discover that the closest comparison he had was when he couldn't define his feelings toward Janet, that cookie loving little trollop at daycare. He'd been spellbound by her, too, by a pair of pretty green eyes and the perfect example of what a little girl should be.

That wasn't quite what had happened today, when holding Brian's hands and listening to his self-involved whining had made Stewie feel uncomfortable in such a...physical fashion, and then try to charge at him for a kiss. But the aspect of feeling awkward and the typically romantic-focused motivations of yearning for a kiss made it close enough to remind him.

The changing family dynamics had clearly brought on a, a...what was this, a skewed Electra Complex with one key difference? Well, whatever it was, it would have to be nipped in the bud! He wasn't really gay after all, was he? Least of all for dumb dogs that panted after vile women.

* * *

The next day proceeded as if nothing had gone wrong the day before. The time seemed to have zoomed right by, Stewie thought. One minute he was in the car heading back from the failed rehearsal, the next he was back in the car heading to the church with a beaming Brian, and now, here he was sitting in the pew as Lois made her way down the aisle. A part of him didn't want to believe it. How could he? Brian was marrying Lois! Even taking into account the dog's obvious feelings for his mother, none of it added up. Add on top of that the little moment he'd shared with the canine less than twenty-four hours earlier...

That damn rehearsal! What the bloody hell had he been thinking? At the time, he'd told himself he was just trying to distract Brian from his heartache at being abandoned by Lois, but that just didn't explain those last few moments in the church. A part of it was just getting enjoyment from teasing the dog, but...that wasn't all of it, either. If they hadn't been interrupted, Stewie was pretty sure he would have gone through with the kiss. As for how much he would have enjoyed it, that's something he wasn't really clear on since he was simply incapable of nailing down what his own motivations had been, in that moment.

Lois passed by the aisle he and his siblings were sitting in, momentarily pulling his attention away as he turned to look at her, a blank expression on his face as his eyes followed the rest of her walk, stopping once she was standing next to the dog who was wearing a fairly nice tux with a red bow tie. It looked good on him. Stewie could tell that he'd tried to look his best, which is more than he could say for Lois who looked like she'd just slapped on any old wedding dress and was obviously just going through the motions. The boy shook his head. All that effort for someone who was, in his eyes, doing this out of mere convenience. She simply wasn't worth it.

 _Stupid dog._

The wedding march ended, and the priest began speaking, though Stewie found he could hardly pay attention to what was being said. An ocean of white noise washed over him as he just focused in on the sight of his mother and Brian standing there at the front of the church.

Brian's tail was wagging. He really did seem happy. A part of Stewie wanted to be happy for him, but he simply couldn't muster up even the smallest smile. Oh, he'd be able to fake it later when it was necessary, but not here. Not now.

Not while he had to sit there and watch the one person he cared about make such a major mistake, completely unable to do anything to stop it. Not while he was experiencing such strange emotions, continuing to think about the incident from yesterday, the incident that occurred as he stood in the very spot Lois was standing now. No matter how much he went over it in his head, he just couldn't make sense of any of it, which was both baffling and maddening to a super genius such as himself.

For Christ's sake! He could create devices that used to only exist in science fiction, but he couldn't get a handle on what should be, to him, some basic domestic issues? It was so much easier when he simply didn't...care...at all. He knew there was no going back to that, though, because the truth of the matter was that he did care, now.

...And he cared a very great deal.

"Into this union Lois and Brian now come to be joined. If any of you can show just cause why they may not be lawfully wed, speak now, or else forever hold your peace."

Stewie had to fight the urge to stand up and shout...something...anything, but he knew his cries would go ignored. And, no one else wanted to bring up all the obvious red flags, like how fast this had all happened or how Lois had so completely abandoned Brian at rehearsal just one day before. Even Brian was just letting that slide. All it took was a simple apology from Lois, and he was completely over it! He just accepted that bullshit excuse about how she'd been nervous or whatever. That dumb mutt was so blind. It wasn't worth the effort, so he remained silent as the priest continued.

"I charge you both, here in the presence of God and the witness of this company, that if either of you know any reason why you may not be married lawfully and in accordance with God's Word, do now confess it."

A pause. Neither Lois nor Brian said anything. The priest proceeded on, turning to Lois.

"Lois, do you take this, uh...man to be your lawfully wedded husband; to live together with him in the covenant of marriage? To love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful unto him until death do you part?"

There was a brief moment of hesitation before the woman finally responded.

"I do."

Stewie felt his heart beginning to beat faster. His fists clenched.

"Brian, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife; to live together with her in the covenant of marriage? To love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful unto her until death do you part?"

The priest barely had time to finish before Brian exclaimed enthusiastically.

"Absolutely!"

The tension went out of Stewie as his fists unclenched and his head dropped slightly.

 _It's happening…_

"Do all of you witnessing these promises swear to do all in your power to uphold these two...persons in marriage?"

For the first time ever, Stewie acknowledged defeat as the entirety of the congregation sans himself responded in unison.

"We do."

 _I don't._

No one paid the baby any mind as the ceremony continued on. Carter gave Lois away. Then, there was a hymn that Stewie was sure he'd never heard before. And, after that, finally, came the vows. Stewie had no interest in paying attention anymore. He just wanted this nonsense to be over with so he could go home and go to his room to work on some invention or was no point dwelling on this any longer. It was done. Brian was his stepfather, now. That sick feeling he had the evening he'd first learned about Lois and Brian's decision was returning. He'd have to stop by the bathroom after the ceremony.

He tried to ignore the proceedings, but he was still able to tell when the vows were done and when the two of them had exchanged rings. Things were wrapping up, now. He'd be able to leave soon.

"Lois and Brian, having witnessed the vows of your love for one another, it is my joy to present you to all gathered here as husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

At this, Stewie felt his head lifting up against his will as he watched the two seal their unholy union with a kiss. The music started up, and the two of them proceeded down the aisle hand-in-hand as they made their way out of the church. As soon as he was able to, Stewie leapt up from his seat and made haste for the nearest restroom, barely able to hold the bile down that was rising in his throat.

* * *

After the wedding, everyone left the church and met up again at McBurgertown.

 _...McBurgertown…_

It was about as cheap and trashy as you could get, all these well-dressed individuals scattered about a D-grade, fast food eating establishment. Of course, Stewie understood that money was tight, and it was probably Brian that had to foot the bill for pretty much everything, but surely, this wasn't the dog's first choice. No, this is what happened when you rushed a marriage and when the bride really didn't give a damn.

The child was currently seated at the head of a booth in a high chair, a sort of kid's meal sitting in front of him, a kid's meal he was refusing to indulge in since he was dressed far too nicely to be getting his hands all greasy. Right across from him was the rest of his pathetic family, Lois and Brian sitting together to the left and his brother and sister to the right. He leaned back and folded his arms, a scowl etched on his face, unable to get up and leave like he desperately desired. Occasionally, Brian would look off in his direction and frown. As per usual, it was he who was the only one to pick up on the baby's actual mood.

It was his own little pocket of misery, though, as everyone else seemed to be having at least a decent time. There were greasy smiles and occasional laughter all throughout the restaurant. Brian gave a little speech about how grateful he was to have everyone there celebrating the "best day of my life". The child rolled his eyes at that one, making sure the dog noticed.

 _Man, the rest of your life must have blown…_

Right around the time everyone else was finishing their meal, Stewie decided he couldn't take it anymore, and swallowing his pride, started beating his tiny fists against the table of his high chair and pitching a fit, legs kicking as he started whining.

"Dammit! Get me out of this thing! I can't take it anymore! I need to get out of here!"

Unsurprisingly, the moment he started acting his age was the moment the others actually started to pay attention to him. His mother sighed.

"Oh, Stewie…"

But her displeasure was soon replaced with a fake smile aimed in his direction.

"What's the matter, my baby? Is someone getting cranky?"

The boy seethed.

"I'll fucking show you cranky, you skanky cow!"

The woman jumped back at the outburst, as if she actually understood him for once. It was at this point that Brian interjected and reached over to release the child from his plastic prison.

"It's ok, Lois. I'll take him out. He's probably just getting restless. Give him a little credit, though. He's been acting fine for the last several hours."

Lois responded with obnoxious enthusiasm.

"Well, that is true! He's been a very big boy today!"

She threw him another smile.

"Bite me."

Stewie spoke bluntly as Brian picked him up and began carrying him out of the restaurant. The child threw her the bird right before the dog passed through the door. He looked up at Brian.

"You don't have to carry me. I can walk for crying out loud."

The dog took a few more steps before sighing and setting the child down on his feet. They were in the middle of the parking lot. Brian must have been carrying him out to the car, so that's the direction Stewie continued to head, Brian following close behind him.

"What's your deal, Stewie?"

The infant spared him a brief glance back, never stopping.

"Doesn't matter. It's done."

They reached the car, and Stewie turned to lean his back against the vehicle, folding his arms once more, hoping the dog would just drop the issue and let him stew in peace. If only he could be so lucky.

"What? Me marrying Lois? We already talked about this. I thought everything was alright. Why are you being such a little bitch about this?"

At hearing this, Stewie shot a glare in the canine's direction.

"A bitch? Is that what you think of me, right now? You think I'm just being a bitch? Well, I'd rather be a bitch than a moron blinded by lust."

Stewie had expected Brian to get angry. Hell, he was kind of hoping that would happen, much easier to deal with. That's not what happened, though. In response, the dog just frowned before joining the baby in leaning against the car, head hanging dejectedly.

"Is that what you think of me?"

Stewie wasn't sure how to respond. Upon seeing the canine looking so forlorn, his heart began to ache a bit. He groaned and rubbed at his forehead.

 _Goddammit…_

"I can't help it if that's how things seem to me."

The dog didn't respond for a while, leaving the two of them in an awkward silence before finally speaking.

"I wish...I wish I could prove to you that wasn't the case."

Another silence took hold before he continued.

"I wasn't lying when I said this was the best day of my life."

The infant scoffed.

"Oh, I don't doubt it."

The dog slid down the car and sat on the ground.

"It was still far from perfect, though."

Stewie did the same before finally turning to look at the dog, curious about that last statement.

"Oh, really?"

Brian turned to look at him.

"Really."

The child tilted his head. This genuinely surprised him.

"So...what would have made it perfect?"

A small smile appeared on the canine's lips as he reached back to scratch the back of his neck.

"Well…"

He shrugged.

"I would have really liked your support."

Stewie felt his mouth go dry.

"My...my support?"

Brian nodded.

"Well, yeah. I don't like seeing you upset, Stewie, especially over this, and you haven't exactly made any attempts to hide how you really feel about all of this today."

At hearing this, the boy couldn't help but feel a little guilty. He shook his head.

 _Why do you do this to me, dog?_

"You should take it as a compliment."

The dog quirked his eyebrow.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

The boy looked down, feeling nervous all of a sudden.

"I wouldn't...I wouldn't feel so strongly about everything if I didn't...I didn't...care."

He felt heat rush to his face, and turned away from the canine in an attempt to hide it. It wasn't long before he felt a paw coming to rest on his shoulder.

"It's going to be ok, kid. I promise. Give it time. You'll see."

He could hear the dog standing back up and coming to stand at his side.

"Here."

The infant looked up to find Brian smiling down at him, paw extended in his direction.

"Let's go back inside. We'll be going home soon. Think you can hold it together for another half hour or so?"

Stewie had to actually think about this before nodding his head and accepting the canine's paw. Brian pulled him to his feet and led him back inside the restaurant. Before long, he was back in his high chair, and Brian had rejoined the others, picking up whatever conversation he had left off on as if nothing had happened. The only difference now being the frequent smiles he would make sure to direct towards his little buddy, and despite still feeling like this was all just a huge mistake, Stewie found that he couldn't help but smile back every time.

 _I want nothing more than to be proven wrong, Brian._

* * *

"Sweetie, are you wearing earmuffs?"

Stewie peered through crusty eyes into the thin sunlight filtering into the room, and that horrid woman who held him in her arms. She uncovered one of his ears and stared stupidly at the winter accessory as though it were a mysterious device the likes of which she'd never seen before.

"What do you think, you moron?" Stewie muttered, as she removed the item from his head, laughing.

"Such a silly boy!" she cooed nauseatingly. "You must have been playing some game, hmm? Were you pretending you were an Eskimo in the arctic?"

"Um, that's offensive: they're called Inuits," said Stewie, not that he really cared. "Just like your proper name is idiot."

"I bet you have such a great big imagination," Lois went on, happily unawares. She kissed her baby on the top of his head, paying no heed to his resultant expression of disgust.

"Sometimes I wonder about everything that's going on in that head," she chuckled, to his shock, as she carried him out of the room. Stewie crossed his arms tightly over his chest, face casting itself into a frown of subdued fury at her comment.

She deposited him on the floor of the living room. "Honey, I would've gotten you up early, but I thought you were already awake! I'm sorry you missed breakfast. I thought Brian would have brought you down, like he usually does. Oh, well, he must have been running late for work this morning. I'll go and heat you up some French toast sticks, okay?"

The two dumb lumps that he called his embarrassments for siblings were already in the living room, evidently having been up for some time. Stewie watched their glazed eyes, focused on the T.V., and wondered if he should initiate some kind of conversation. For the very immediate future, however, he chose to remain silent.

Interact with his family? Before he'd even had his coffee?

It was Saturday, meaning that come that evening, Brian and Lois would have been married one full week. It had been a rather mundane week, Stewie had to say.

There had been no honeymoon. No funds for one, really, which Stewie had heard the vile woman practically inform Brian. The lovestruck dog had quixotically argued that one could be possible, but Lois had shut him down. "How about, in place of the honeymoon," she suggested, ""we all take a nice family vacation this summer, after we've saved up some money."

With the wedding night being spent at the Griffin house...well, that's where the earmuffs came in.

When the fatman had been alive, Stewie had often been a hapless victim subjected to the sounds of he and Lois so-called "making love". That had been disturbing enough, but Stewie...he didn't think he could stand being forced to listen, now that it was Brian in there with Lois, instead.

The tyke had broken out the earmuffs the first night Brian could absolutely be expected to move from the bottom of the bed...to on top of Lois.

Stewie, admittedly, didn't know much about sexual congress. He knew that he hadn't at all liked walking in on or overhearing his parents. And he knew what Brian sometimes did to the couch. Presumably, that's what the canine had spent a really long time wanting to do with the middle-aged tart Stewie could unfortunately call his mother. It made the baby feel ill all over again, just like at the wedding, whenever he thought about it.

Well, of course. His mother was involved. It was normal to find it repugnant when one or the other or both of your parentals were...having the sex. He just couldn't determine why it was worse when Lois had someone other than Peter in her bed. The awkwardness should be lower, now that the objectionable activity was at least less one parent.

But, no. The problem was obvious. The problem wasn't that Lois had a new partner in her bed- the problem was it was Brian.

The boy felt positive he'd heard that you weren't supposed to like it when a friend was romantically involved with your relation, so he had to conclude that was the issue.

Stewie had been wearing the earmuffs every night since Brian became his stepfather. Despite that not being the use they were designed for, they must be working. He'd yet to hear a peep out of the newlyweds at night, thank god. And in the morning, when Brian came to get him up for the day, the dog didn't even say anything about them. Not anymore. The first time the dog had caught him in them, Stewie had made up some bull crap about reading a study which said that keeping one's ears warm at night was good for the brain.

"It's an experiment," the baby lied. "It's worth trying anything to preserve the ole money maker, isn't it? Not that all the rest of it," he added, gesturing to his face and body, "couldn't be worth a mint."

"Uh, okay," was all the canine had said in response, the most he'd said on the subject since. Every subsequent morning, he'd either rolled his eyes or not acknowledged the earmuffs at all.

"Here you go, sweetie," Lois chirruped annoyingly, like the bird singing outside your window that you wanted to kill. She'd reentered the room and handed her youngest child a plate bearing two toaster-cooked French toast sticks. "Enjoy. Mommy will just be in the kitchen, cleaning."

"Hey, hey, I don't need your life story," Stewie grumbled, crabbing at her. What was this woman's deal? "Thanks for the news report, how about the weather?" But Lois had already turned her back and was retreating to the kitchen.

"Your gourmet food section leaves a little something to be desired!" he hollered after her, examining a rubbery-in-the-middle, burnt-around-the-edges stick and throwing it at the wall.

It bounced back and landed a good two feet away from the wall.

"Yay, bouncy breakfast!" Chris enthused, jumping up and hurrying over to the French toast stick his baby brother had cast away. "That bounced almost as well as the scrambled eggs from earlier." He started nibbling on Stewie's discarded food.

The infant made a noise of impatient disgust. "Please, Chris, you're not an animal." He frowned. "If Stepdoggy were here, he could play go fetch the stick."

Chris crouched like a raccoon over the findings he was still picking at. "Brian was in a bad mood this morning. I don't think he would've wanted to play with us."

This piqued the younger Griffin boy's interest, his eyebrows rising up his forehead. "Really? Why do you say that? How was he acting?"

The tubby blond finished his French toast stick and returned to the couch. "Just really crabby. He was in a big rush. Said he overslept."

"Oh." Relations with Lois must be tiring him out. He must have been up half the night… Stewie frantically shoved a large bite of the remaining stick into his mouth, just so he'd have some starch in his stomach to help with the nausea.

Meg inserted herself into the conversation with, "Yeah, Brian was a tool this morning. 'Whatever happened to kids sleeping in on Saturday morning?'" In an evident effort to imitate Brian, she pitched her voice lower, making her voice manly to match her appearance. "'What are you two up for, to be a nuisance? Does everyone in this house have to be so damn difficult? Well, I'm not fixing you breakfast. Bad enough I have to work today.' And then he said something about capitalism and Hummers and he could at least get the good kind of Hummer."

Stewie blinked at his sister. "The dog said all that? Wow, I didn't think Mr. Self Righteous was capable of finding fault with the universe anymore. I would've thought the rose colored glasses would still be firmly in place, only one week after marrying his _love_." His voice dripped with acid on the endearment.

"I'm nervous to tell him he's supposed to go to Parent-Teacher Night next week!" Chris confided. "What if he goes full Cujo on us?" The dimbulb teen cringed in fear.

Chris was too ridiculous "No, Brian's not like that." Stewie felt compelled to defend him. "And he's not our parent, either, so for god's sake, make Lois go. Layabout bitch."

"Brian's the only daddy we got now!" Chris argued. "We need a daddy!"

The baby clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly in genuine annoyance. Yes, it was a fact now that Brian was their stepfather, but that didn't mean that anybody had to actually treat him like a parent. He wasn't. How could Meg and Chris ever see him as such? Stewie sure wouldn't. It didn't make any sense! Wanting to hump Lois and pay back the family who had kept him in Alpo for so many years did not a father make.

"I may be a son of a bitch, Chris," the infant objected, "but Brian is and never will be my _daddy_." He shuddered. "Besides, what do any of us _really_ need a father for, I ask you? Meg's masculine enough without a male role model. You apparently had enough to absorb enough of the fatman's qualities that you're already made in some man's image. And I...well, I was probably always going to come across as someone who'd been raised by his grandmother, no matter what the reality of the situation was."

The youngest Griffin wasn't sure if Meg had been paying attention to or understood anything that had come out of his mouth, but it seemed close enough to a reply when she said,

"Well, at least Mom's been able to find another husband quickly so she won't be lonely." Her face took on an envious expression. "Lucky slut. Some of us can't even find one man."

"Well, I'm sure she's _relieved_ to have found another sucker to take care of her," said Stewie. "As well as to foist her no doubt twisted desires upon. But, I don't know...does she really seem... _happy_? Not that I _want_ to see her happy, heaven forfend, but, I mean, she should be at least a little cheered, right, about the fact that she's upgraded to a husband that isn't braindead? She should appreciate that _this_ husband has some class and intelligence."

"I don't know about happy," Chris responded, "but she does seem weirder."

This assessment took his infant brother by surprise and puzzled him. "Weirder? What do you mean?"

"Well, when Meg and I got home from school a couple days ago," Chris explained, "Mom was getting a delivery. It looked like something big, but she wouldn't let us see it, and made us go play in the backyard until the delivery man left."

"Oh, are you telling Stewie about Mom's super secret delivery?" Meg chimed in. She looked at her baby brother and started talking to him in the syrup voice people often used on young children. "You were at preschool at the time." Fortunately, she didn't go on talking in that sickening and insulting tone, instead shaking her head and looking back over at Chris, before speaking normally. "You've really been talking to him a lot. How do you do that? We really need to find you some friends, Chris. But yeah, that was weird. And how about the fact that she keeps her bedroom door locked at all times now? Whatever she had delivered must be in there."

Leaving aside the fact that his cloddish sister saw fit to be dismissive toward him, Stewie thought instead of this news he'd just received about Lois. What was that vile woman up to?

"She's still locking it?" asked Chris, to which Meg nodded.

"I've been checking every day since I tried to go in there to borrow her perfume, and yep. It's locked all the time now."

This was certainly intriguing, and Stewie filed the information away for future investigation. He tried to guess what his harpy mother could be hiding, and was disturbed to think that it _could_ have something to do with her and Brian's...ewwww, sex life. The timing would seem to coincide. He'd heard of perverts, though he had no idea what they did. He knew that the fatman's friend Quagmire had been one, and the baby reflected that it was a pity that the man whore pilot had gone along on Peter's trip. If only he had survived to marry Lois! Stewie decided right then and there that she was probably more on a level with that dead Q-tip shaped pervert than with Brian.

So there was the danger of stumbling upon a chamber of sexual depravity, but also, what if Lois was concealing something in there which was part of a plot against the whole family? What if it were up to Stewie to save them all? It seemed entirely possible to the suspicious tyke. Maybe losing the status quo when she lost Peter had caused her to become unhinged. And then she'd married the dog, and...well, that was either out of desperation, or out of some sadistic desire to destroy his life the way hers had been destroyed. Of course she wouldn't know how to deal with a husband who wasn't retarded! Or….! Maybe she _could_ deal, all too easily, and that was part of her game! Brian was so lovesick for her, she thought she could convince him to do all of her bidding!

Yes, Lois could very well have some evil plan afoot. It was either designed to take down Brian or take down all of them, but one thing was for sure. No fucking way was Stewie going to let her succeed!

His commitment to the goal of stopping her was so strong that he took a risk and, that night, dared to sleep without his earmuffs, in case there was any vital information to overhear.

He overheard nothing that night. No "making whoopie" sounds. No sounds of anybody on a medieval torture rack or any other kind of torture device. No arguments in which Lois threatened Brian and demanded he do as he was told. No Lois sneaking out for a clandestine meeting with the criminals who were helping her with her despicable plan. No shady conversations. Nothing. Crickets.

Nor did he hear anything the next night, or the next, or the next. And gradually, Stewie began to let down his guard. He still told himself that he'd try to find out what Lois had hidden away in that bedroom, but he slept a little easier at night. It was all quiet on the domestic front.

For that, the boy was grateful, but he had yet to feel that all was well.

Lois plotting against them all may or may not be happening, but even if she wasn't, Stewie couldn't shake the feeling that something about their lives on Spooner Street had become very, very wrong.


	3. Chapter 2: The Daily Grind

**Chapter 2: The Daily Grind**

The alarm sounded. A harsh, blaring siren type sound pierced through the silence of the room, right into the peaceful slumber currently being experienced by the white dog in the bed. He opened his eyes slowly, groggily before slamming them shut again. No. Not now. Not yet. He flailed his arm out to the side until it found its target, smashing down the snooze button and silencing the obnoxious noise. He sighed in relief and rolled onto his side, determined to make the most of this last five minutes he had to rest before getting up and beginning his day, repeating what had now become his regular routine.

For a while, he was able to bask in the contentment that came with the simple act of lounging in bed, but it was over all too soon. The alarm started up again, and he groaned.

 _No way that was five minutes!_

He opened his eyes again, and looked at the time through blurry vision before conceding that it was indeed time to get up. Mumbling obscenities, he threw the comforter off his body and slammed his paw down on the alarm once more to silence it for the day.

The canine sat up and stretched, joints making audible pops as he let out a big yawn. He reached over to rub the back of his neck for a few seconds before turning to address his beautiful wife.

"Morning, hon-."

He stopped. She was still asleep. Again. He shook his head. How Lois was able to sleep through that alarm was simply beyond him. Maybe it was just because he was a dog or something, but even keeping that in mind, ignoring it seemed ridiculous to him. He shook his head and tossed his legs over the side of the bed, taking a second to sit there and admire the woman of his dreams...who was lying in a separate bed on the other side of their bedroom. He tried to push that thought aside.

 _Come on, Brian. You know what you told yourself. You have to be understanding. Things still aren't easy for her. She'll come around...in time._

It was something he told himself every morning, and he believed it. Sure, he could have gotten mad… Ok, well, he had gotten mad. Initially! And not directly at her. If anything, he'd had momentary moments of lashing out at others, which wasn't exactly right either, but had to be better, right?

And, surely a little anger was a little justified. He wasn't completely against the separate bed thing, but to come home from a long day at work and to go up to your room ready to hit the hay in your regular bed next to the person you care about most only to find there are now two beds and that you'll be sleeping separately for the time being was quite the shock.

 _She didn't have to go behind my back like that…_

That was all the attention he was willing to give the matter, for the time being, though. He knew he had to get busy. There was plenty to do before he had to head out. With one last stretch, he finally hopped down, walking over to give Lois a kiss on the forehead before heading for their bathroom.

First thing was first, he began running some water in the tub and testing it until it was just the right temperature. Then, switched the flow over to the showerhead and climbed in. He let the warm water run over him for a second, relieving the tension in his muscles and soothing him before grabbing his shampoo and beginning to lather it into the fur all over his body.

As he washed himself, a common fantasy began playing out in his head. Ever since he'd first realized how he felt about Lois, he had found that, most of the time when he was in the shower, he couldn't help but imagine how awesome it would be to have her surprise him by joining him. Hot and steamy. And intimate. And, now he was just waiting for the day when that finally happened. After all, they were married now. That was something married people did. Maybe that was why he never bothered to close the door as he showered in the morning? Was that his invitation?

Feeling the heat in his body begin to rise, he stopped right there and reached up to turn the temperature of the water down as he washed out the soap. He shivered at the unpleasant sensation, but it quickly put an end to his growing problem. He was incredibly frustrated, but he knew he had to keep it together.

He made quick work of the rest of his shower before jumping out and beginning the process of drying his fur. First, he got most of the moisture with a towel. Then, he grabbed the hair dryer and blew it all over his body while he brushed his teeth. He'd become quite good at multitasking, if he was allowed to say so himself. He finished cleaning his teeth at about the same time he finally began to feel dry. He set the dryer down and gargled some mouthwash before smiling at himself in the mirror, satisfied that he was ready to go out and officially start his day.

Lois continued to sleep as he made his way over to the closet to grab his shirt collar and red tie, what had become his normal work attire. He was about to close the closet, but his eye caught sight of something, a brown fedora that he had bought a decent while back. He'd always liked it, just never had much reason to actually wear the thing. In his opinion, it looked rather good on him, and besides, it sort of fit that husbandly look he had been experimenting with. He smiled before grabbing that, too, and placing it on his head, finding it felt rather right. In no time, he had his red tie on, as well, and was heading out the door into the hall, stopping to give the sleeping woman one last passing glance before shutting the door behind him.

 _Alright. Gotta get the kids._

Brian proceeded into Stewie's room. He walked up to the crib and found the boy still sound asleep. A smile appeared on the canine's lips as he reached through the bars to gently push the boy, trying to coerce him out of slumber.

"Hey, Stewie. Wake up. Time to get up, kiddo."

The baby groaned and slowly opened his eyes, making eye contact with the dog as he yawned. He rubbed at his eyes and gave a little stretch before sitting up. Brian lowered the bars of the crib and reached out to pick up Stewie, but the infant pushed his paws away, stopping him.

"I'm good. You don't need to carry me. I tell you this every morning."

The dog shrugged.

"If I were your age, I'd gladly let everyone carry me around."

The infant chuckled and shook his head.

"It's not all it's cracked up to be. Besides, I'm not as lazy as you."

The boy stood up and stretched again.

"Anyway, why do you care? You should be glad you don't have to baby me. Makes things easier on you, doesn't it?"

Brian replied as Stewie hopped out of the crib and made his way over to the closet.

"I guess it does. It's just…"

The baby stopped and turned around, eyeing the dog curiously.

"Just?"

Brian reached back to rub behind his neck.

"You're just my responsibility more than ever, now, you know? It was easier before."

Stewie rolled his eyes before motioning for Brian to come assist him with getting dressed.

"Oh, stop with that. Things aren't that different. Stop pretending like they are."

The dog chose to ignore this last comment and instead hopped to the task at hand, opening up the closet and picking out the infant's usual attire before bending down to undo his sleeper. As he was being dressed, Stewie spoke up.

"Seriously, Brian, there's no reason for things to be different. If anything seems more difficult, now, it's your own fault."

Brian sighed as he pulled the yellow shirt down over the infant's torso.

"Things are different, Stewie, very different."

He reached over and grabbed the overalls before holding them out for Stewie to step into.

"You're my kid, now…"

The baby stopped mid step and shot the dog a cold glare.

"I am not. Your. Kid."

He finished stepping into the overalls and waited for Brian to snap him in. The dog did just that and grabbed the child's sleeper before standing up.

"You may not see it that way, but yes, Stewie, legally, you are."

The boy batted his hand dismissively.

"I don't care what some paperwork says. I refuse to think of you as my father."

Brian reached up to rub at his temple, becoming slightly annoyed.

"Why do you have to be so difficult..?"

Stewie folded his arms.

"I'm not being difficult. I'm just trying to make things clear. Just because you married that hussy, don't think that our whole dynamic is supposed to change. It hasn't, and it's not going to. There's no reason for it to. You can perform your patriarchal duties perfectly fine without trying to force some sort of father/son relationship where it has no right being. That's just not what this is. Not that I don't think you're completely unsuitable to be a father or anything. You're just never going to hear me call you "dad" or anything of the sort. Ok?"

Brian came to the conclusion that he simply didn't have the patience for this sort of thing, right now, let alone the time. With one last shake of his head, he gave up.

"Whatever, Stewie. I have to go get the others, and Lois is still asleep so I guess I'm doing breakfast this morning. It'll be ready in a bit, so don't be too long."

And with that, he turned to head back into the hall, relieved to get some distance from the boy. He walked over to Chris's door and knocked loudly before calling out.

"Chris! Wake up! Get ready for school! Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes!"

When he got no reply, he knocked again.

"Chris!"

"Alright already!"

The harsh screech made the dog jump back, and it took a second for him to compose himself. He cleared his throat and called back.

"Ok. Just making sure you heard me."

Semi-satisfied that the older Griffin boy was up for the day, Brian moved a few steps down the hall to Meg's door.

"Meg? You up?"

A drowsy voice was his reply.

"How could I not be with you and Chris yelling so loud?"

The dog chuckled at this.

"Alright. You probably heard already, then, but I'm heading down to get breakfast started. Be down soon."

He didn't wait for a reply before turning and making his way down the stairs. First, he walked all the way down to the basement to deposit Stewie's sleeper in a dirty clothes hamper before walking back up to the first floor and proceeding into the kitchen.

Brian checked the clock, and seeing that he was pretty on the ball today, the canine decided to make a larger breakfast for everybody, since he was doing so well time-wise. It would be a nice treat for the family, hopefully. Especially for Lois, whenever she came down. She must be tired, she was sleeping so late anymore. Maybe waking to a good breakfast would make her day.

The dog was no professional cook, but he could manage. He put on the coffee, and as he started mixing pancake batter, he heard small feet pitter-pattering into the kitchen. Those footsteps could only belong to one person.

Brian didn't immediately acknowledge the boy's presence; rather, he just kept on preparing breakfast, heating the griddle, cracking eggs into a bowl and whisking them for scrambled eggs. While pouring out circles of batter onto the hot griddle, he heard the baby begin speaking to him.

"Nice hat, Brian. Ahhh, the fedora. The headwear of choice for nice guys everywhere."

Sighing, Brian reminded himself that if he was going to successfully parent these children, he couldn't engage with them in a battle of quips like he used to. He just wasn't going to give Stewie the satisfaction of responding to his teasing.

The dog turned around carefully on the chair he'd pushed up to the counter in order to be able to make breakfast.

"I appreciate you making it down here in a timely fashion for breakfast, Stewie." Positive reinforcement. He plastered a kind, fatherly smile on his face.

The infant crinkled his nose. "Why? I don't have to go to school. I can't be late for anything this morning. Anyway, I was about to say, I think you're the ultimate nice guy success story, don't you? You should write a book about it. After all, you actually managed to _marry_ the woman you were skulking around, pretending to befriend for so many years."

This kid was getting on his last nerve, but Brian still wasn't going to show it. He flipped the pancakes before jumping down off his chair, completely ignoring Stewie for now, for as long as he persisted in being like this.

It was almost as if Stewie had found his playbook, though, because while the canine pushed the chair over to the cabinet where the bread was kept, the child snidely inquired,

"Oh, what? You think you're too good to defend yourself now?"

Brian retrieved the bread and put it on the table, heading over to the fridge from there.

"What kind of response are you trying to get out of me? And what possible response would do any good?" He'd always counted himself as a rational thinker, and he was rather proud of himself for being able to keep a level head as he faced Stewie razzing him.

There was silence for a long beat. The dog returned to the stove and flipped the pancakes onto a plate, pouring the eggs onto the griddle in their place to cook.

"It's like I was saying before," the baby's voice finally piped up again. "Nothing's changed."

"You say that," observed the dog, taking the pancakes over to the table and stopping to smile at the tyke in his highchair. "But this is _definitely_ how _you_ would talk to a parent," he joked. "I sure feel like you're more of a hassle to me now since all this happened. The way you treat Lois- "

Interrupting, Stewie's voice snapped out like a whip. "Woe betide you if you ever become comparable to Lois, _dog_."

Brian let it drop, and went back to tending the eggs, but he was thinking as he did so that he would probably have to try sooner rather than later to correct Stewie's mystifying and highly damaging attitude toward his mother. This was something he had known from the start he would have to do, but it was exhausting just to contemplate. Brian was aware he had an uphill battle ahead of him.

In short order, the eggs were done, too, and Brian put them in a serving dish on the table. He then set about pushing the chair over so he could get the plates with which to set the table for his family. Chris shuffled into the kitchen, and Brian greeted his elder stepson.

"Good morning, Chris. Orange juice with your breakfast? How dark would you like your toast?"

"Eh, it doesn't matter to me," shrugged the teen. "I'm an equal opportunity muncher."

The ambiguous comment gave Brian pause as he was about to stick two bread slices into the toaster, and he wondered if Chris meant that comment to contain any innuendo. That was another thing that the dog supposed was now his responsibility. Guiding the children about dating and sex and whatnot. He knew about Chris's porno mags, for example, and his efforts at getting around the child safe filters on the computer. Was he okay with those things? Of course, a healthy curiosity was only to be expected, but Chris was only about to just begin high school. What was the good dad thing to do?

Meg entered the kitchen then. "Hey, everybody," she muttered halfheartedly, sitting down at the table. Brian looked at her. Meg wasn't used to people being happy to see her. The dog couldn't say that he was ever particularly glad to find himself in her company, but still, she needed more confidence. Otherwise, she might wind up permanently depressed, and Brian, having had (before his love life turned around) some of those tendencies himself, didn't want her to suffer through that. He made a mental note to help Meg, too.

Somewhere around the halfway point of breakfast, the canine's lovely wife finally made her appearance downstairs.

"Sleeping beauty arises!" declared Brian, welcoming his wife with a warm smile. "Good morning, honey. Did you sleep well?"

The woman slumped into a seat, offering him a slight smile in return. "Good morning, Brian. Good morning, kids." She looked around briefly at her brood. "I slept fine." She turned her attention back to the dog. "Is there any coffee?"

Brian was already out of his chair and pouring her a cup. "Right here. I got it in your favorite mug." He walked the beverage over to her. She took it from him and sipped eagerly, and the dog waited a moment before returning to his seat, savoring the simple domestic pleasure of the moment. She was gorgeous, first thing in the morning, drinking her coffee. They said that marriage was about the little things spouses did for each other. Brian was happy he could do this little thing to make her happy- hand her her coffee.

The family lapsed into silence, and before the canine went back to his seat, he went to the side door and retrieved the morning paper that was laying just outside of it. He took his morning reading material back to the table, and skimmed the current events while he ate.

However, his mind was beginning to wander…

 _The little things... What's the last thing she's done for you, Brian?_

The thought was as sudden, sharp, and unwelcome as a flea bite. Brian responded with annoyance at himself at the pesty thought.

 _She did the biggest thing she could ever do for me by marrying me! She's the best wife in the world!_

Unexpectedly, the dog found himself facing an internal argument.

 _But if it's the little things that make a good marriage, surely she should be doing some of those little things for you to make you feel loved._

 _She makes this house a home! That's one big job made up of a million and one_ _ **little things**_ _._

 _Yes, but she's not doing that just for you. What small but meaningful gestures does she make for your relationship, to show how much she cares?_

Brian thought, his nerves oddly taxed as he did so, like he had to hurry and come up with the correct answer or there would be nasty consequences. It was stupid as hell. He was creating this problem himself. And he told himself that, adding,

 _We've been married for a week! We're in an adjustment period! No one's trying to be all...deliberate about this! It'll occur to her eventually. She just hasn't read the books I've read. It's ignorant to even worry about this at all! ...I'm_ _ **not**_ _worried. We're just...finding our bearings on love's grand tide._

The canine told himself to remember the phrasing of that final thought for use in a book, as he gulped his coffee in a hurry to wake up and stop inventing asinine problems, and thinking ungenerous things about Lois.

 _The way she pats me on the head before we get into bed...bed_ _ **s**_ _...every night! That's a small, sweet thing._

 _Oh, a pat on the head,_ the snider side of him mocked. _Yes, it's obvious you've made the transition from her pet to the man in her life. That's so romantic! And hot. That is some hot bedroom activity._

Brian gave a low growl from behind his newspaper.

"Are you okay, Brian?" asked Meg.

"What?" muttered Brian, startled out of debating himself, embarrassed. "Oh- oh! Yeah, I'm fine, it's just...the world today." He forced a rueful laugh, flicking the cover of the paper with a finger. "It's a- it's a mess."

Lois was telling the older kids to finish up and go grab their book bags, the bus would be there soon. Chris whined that he hated the bus, why couldn't she take him to school.

"Like I don't smell bad enough before the stink of the bus gets on me!"

Meg started to argue that what really should happen is that she should officially be given her dad's old car, that way she could drive herself to school. She'd even be willing to take Chris.

"Please, Mom, it's just sitting there, you've only let me drive it, like, once since- "

"That's enough." Lois's clipped, distinctly testy voice shut her daughter down. "I'm not just going to decide right now if you should have your own car. It's a big decision."

Brian folded up the newspaper and put it aside, his eyes finding his wife across the table. She looked tense. The dog wondered why. Was she just a little cross because she hadn't fully woken up yet? Or was she really that concerned about Meg owning a car?

He addressed Meg. "That's right," he said slowly, wanting to be supportive. "Something like that will require a fair amount of discussion between your mother and me." He wasn't clear _why_ , exactly, and he was following Lois's thinking even less when it came to her reluctance to let Meg use the car just for school, at least. But the canine half-smiled over at the woman and gave her a nod, as if to say, 'I got you.'

Lois took one more swig of coffee and pushed her chair back from the table. "Hurry up and go get your things, kids, I'll take you to school today."

Meg and Chris bounded up and headed out of the room, while Lois lingered for a moment, standing beside the table. Then, she came around until she was in front of Brian, and, stooping down, kissed him on top of his head.

"Thanks for breakfast. I suppose you'll be gone when I get back?"

Brian's brow furrowed. "Well...if you're taking Stewie…" The couple glanced in unison over at the high chair, where the infant in question sat glowering, all but forgotten up until that moment. He stared back at them, then, like a housecat that was feeling pissy, carefully reached over, and with one purposeful thwack of the hand, knocked his sippy cup down onto the floor.

"I mean," said Brian, turning back to Lois, "I can probably watch him while you're gone. It shouldn't take too long to drop Meg and Chris off, right?"

He wasn't sure why he was volunteering, and it came as something of a relief when his wife insisted,

"No, no, that's alright, my little man can come with me." She smiled sweetly over at her baby boy, who grinned widely back like The Joker in return.

"Okay, great," the dog responded with a shrug. "That'll give me time to stop by Quizno's on the way to work and pick up a sandwich to put in the office fridge for lunch." He tilted his head up and turned in, closing his eyes and awaiting a kiss.

A heartbeat later, and Lois was brushing her lips against Brian's own, making the canine's heart skip its next beat, and his tail wag. He opened his eyes and watched her walk over to Stewie.

"By the way, nice hat," she said over her shoulder to her husband, before hoisting the tyke from his high chair. The child still bore an expression of inexplicable irritation. But Brian focused most of his attention on the curve of Lois's ass as his wife walked out of the room.

 _Damn it, Brian, stop thinking about how frustrated you are! You've gone longer without sex before! It's completely understandable that she needs time._

That was the helpful voice, the voice that was talking sense. That one sounded more like himself. The other one, Brian realized with a start, before chiding himself that he shouldn't be at all surprised, had actually sounded more like Stewie.

Brian cleared the table and put the dishes in the sink. He held Lois's favorite mug for a time. It was the mug she'd been insisting on using for months now. The dog had no idea how long it had been in this house, or even if it was originally Lois's. He would've had no reason to give it any mind before, but he thought he had a half of a memory of Peter using it.

It was a KISS coffee mug. It could have been bought for either Peter or Lois, really. Brian didn't particularly relish looking at it and being reminded of Lois's former lovers, but he wasn't going to be stupid about it. Getting annoyed about a celebrity whose image he was liable to see anywhere was foolish. And Peter's presence was still spread throughout the house, as was only right. Lois had gotten rid of his clothes and some personal effects, but there were still objects he had bought and used all over the place, from the couch to the kitchen table. Brian could look anywhere and be reminded of his old friend. The house was full of what Peter had left behind.

His children. His wife.

The dog shook his head as if to clear it. Enough of these morose reflections. He filled his own empty coffee cup a quarter of the way and took a long swallow. Time to leave for work and get down to the ole grind.

On Brian's way out, he counted his blessings, such as they were, and was already looking forward to coming home to his family at the end of the day. He thought of the little things Lois had done for him this morning- a tender kiss before they parted ways to start their respective days, complimenting him on his hat- and was able to leave the house with a smile on his face.

* * *

It was funny, Brian found that he was usually able to muster up a good mood in the morning, which was really something since he was never particularly a morning person to begin with. But, it was always here, at this moment, that his mood would sink, the moment he pulled into the parking lot at work, the moment he had to sit there and acknowledge that he had to now get out and walk into that building and relinquish any freedom he had for several hours. It certainly didn't help that he had to work for a company who sold products he was otherwise openly against. It was the only place he was able to find on such short notice, though, that could provide him the living he needed to take care of the family.

He allowed himself a few seconds to work up the willpower to get through his day before finally killing the engine of his car and opening the door, grabbing the sub he had picked up on the way over before marching up to the building. He sighed and forced a smile onto his face before finally stepping inside, greeting all of his co-workers with false enthusiasm as he clocked in and made his way into the break room in the back of the Hummer dealership.

His boss was there, Paddy Tanniger, a short, annoying, obnoxious pain in Brian's ass. The dog had to suppress the groan that wanted to escape as he attempted to ignore the man while putting his sandwich in the fridge.

"Morning, Brian."

 _Shit…_

He had to fight to keep his smile as he turned to address the man.

"M-Morning, Paddy."

Hoping to leave it at that, the canine turned to walk out the door, but Paddy's voice halted him in his tracks.

"I need to speak with you for a minute before you get to work."

Brian mentally cursed again.

"Oh."

He turned around once more.

"What's up?"

Paddy walked up to him holding some paperwork. He looked at the papers, sifting through them for a second before replying.

"I've noticed an improvement in your sales."

It wasn't exactly a compliment, but the dog's tail still wagged ever so slightly, an instinctual response.

"Yeah. I've, uh, gotten better at talking to customers, I feel. Just needed a little time to get used to things."

He forced out what he hoped sounded like a friendly chuckle.

"Of course, that's true of everyone, right? I mean, I bet even you weren't a pro at sales when you first started."

Brian nudged the man in his elbow. Then, there was silence. Paddy's face remained blank, but Brian could feel his eyes boring into him. After a few seconds, he gulped nervously. If he could sweat, he was pretty sure he would start right about now. After what felt like entirely too long to the canine, the man continued speaking.

"They're better, Griffin, but they're still not quite where they need to be."

They were just words, but Brian still felt like he'd just been punched in the gut after having even the slightest of praise invalidated with that remark. His foot began tapping as he responded.

"They'll get better. Like I said, things are coming easier to me, now. You'll see. I can get more sales."

More silence. Then, a reply.

"We'll see."

And that was it. Without another word, Paddy was out the door and off to his office. Brian's shoulders sank, and he sighed. He already felt so drained. He wanted to leave so badly. God, he needed this job, though!

 _Come on, Brian! You can do this! Simpletons have had success doing this! And, you're certainly better than most of the people here. Hell, probably better than all of them…_

He believed that. He knew he could outdo anyone in this building, and dammit, he was gonna do it!

With that in mind, he left the break room and took his place at the desk in his cubicle. He logged into his computer and phone. It didn't take long for it to ring. The dog took a breath and smiled again before answering.

"Gooooood morning, this is the Quahog Hummer Dealership. How may I assist you today?"

And from there, the dog's day simply progressed as normal, picking up ever so slightly as Brian found it easier to grin and bare things after he'd finally gotten into the rhythm of his routine. He'd answer a phone call here, assist someone out on the lot there, making sure to give everyone the best service he could possibly provide outside of telling them to not buy their products at all. It wasn't easy, per se, but it was a role that he found himself growing more and more comfortable in every day, and interacting with customers certainly wasn't all bad, especially when he was able to really help someone. That actually felt really good. Of course, that kind of response was typical of his species.

At around noon, the canine was in the process of sealing the deal on his second sale of the day, finishing up some paperwork with his customer.

"Alright, Mrs. Wilson, now I just need you to sign here, here, and here, and you're free to drive off in your brand new vehicle. And, let me just say that you made an excellent choice. Mr. Wilson is sure in for quite the surprise on his birthday. He's quite the lucky guy."

He closed the remark out with a big, toothy grin, earning a small chuckle from the middle-aged woman sitting across from him at his desk. She finished signing, and finished her business with the dog with a handshake.

"Thank you, Brian. You've been a big help to me today."

The canine stood up from his seat and walked the lady to the door.

"It was my pleasure, ma'am. Now, you have a great day!"

The woman smiled at him one last time.

"You, too. Thanks again!"

Then, she proceeded out the door. As was customary, Brian stood at the door and watched as she drove off the lot before finally turning to head back to his desk. On his way there, his stomach let out a rumble. He stopped.

 _Actually, I think I'll take an early lunch today._

With that thought, he deviated from his original course and made for the break room. A few of his other co-workers were in there, as well, but he mainly ignored them outside of a few friendly glances he couldn't avoid. He grabbed his sandwich, and took a seat in a more secluded area of the break room, a table all to himself just like he preferred it. As he unwrapped his sub, his stomach continued to growl, further showing just how hungry he was. He licked his lips, and his mouth watered as he took that first bite.

"Mmmmm."

For a brief moment, he thought about how he wanted to savor his meal, but he couldn't keep himself from scarfing down the rest of it. It was gone in no time, barely any crumbs even left. The dog burped quietly to himself and wiped his mouth before reclining back, letting his food settle. He still had plenty of time left on his break.

 _I wonder how Lois is doing._

The dog pulled out his cell phone and looked at his contacts, stopping at Lois's name. He could call her. He had time. Hearing her voice would be nice. He smiled and dialed the number, waiting patiently as the phone rang in his ear. It rang for a while before the woman finally picked up.

"Hello?"

Brian's ears perked up.

"Hey, honey! I was just on break and had some time to kill. Figured it would be nice to hear your voice."

After a beat, Lois replied.

"Oh! Well… Well, that's sweet, Brian."

The dog sat up and leaned against his table.

"So, what are you up to?"

He began tapping his fingers against the table.

"You know, I'm actually in the middle of finishing some dishes. Give me a second. I'll set the phone down, and be back with you as soon as I can. You have time to wait?"

Even though Lois couldn't see it, the canine nodded his head.

"Yeah. No problem, sweetie. I have plenty of time."

For a while, there was silence since Lois didn't say anything back. Brian settled in to wait patiently on his beloved, but he didn't have to wait long to hear a voice. ...A male voice.

"Hello?"

It was unexpected, and made the canine jump ever so slightly.

"Wha? Huh? Stewie?"

The boy scoffed.

"Jeez. Don't sound too happy to hear me…"

The dog had to suppress a groan.

 _Why does he always have to have an attitude?_

"Well, it's not like you're the one I was expecting to hear."

Brian could practically see the child shrugging as he replied.

"Lois set the phone down on my chair, and while you may have called to speak with her specifically, we both know I'm the better conversationalist. So, I figured I'd give your day a boost and give you the pleasure of having some actual _intelligent_ conversation."

Brian rolled his eyes, but saw no point in arguing with the boy.

"Whatever, Stewie…"

He leaned on his elbow and rubbed his forehead.

"How are you doing?"

At this, the boy's tone turned a tad bit more...chipper.

"Oh, I'm alright, for the most part. As alright as I can be being cooped up in the house with the matriarch all day. I spent a good chunk of the morning watching some mindless TV, while sketching out some blueprints for some new gadget I've been tinkering with. I just finished lunch, and I'm hoping Lois will let me be in my room for the remainder of the day. Not getting my hopes up too high, though. You know how she is. The damn woman seems to believe I desire her company. I tell you, Brian, I'm not particularly fond of preschool, for obvious reasons, but I'm finding myself quite eager to start going back. Who knows when that will be, though. Lois keeps saying she'll get me back enrolled soon, but she's been saying that for weeks now. She obviously needs me more than I need her. It's so pathetic."

Despite being annoyed, initially, Brian found that he was attentively listening to the infant, by the end. He went to respond, but Stewie started up again.

"But, anyway, enough of my rambling. How's your day going?"

The dog was actually surprised by the question. He'd been working this job for months, now, and as far as he could remember, this was the first time someone had actually asked him that question. He wasn't really sure how to respond, at first.

"Oh, well, I mean…"

He coughed into his paw.

"There's not really a lot to talk about. It's going about as good as it can, I guess. Just taking it minute by minute."

He heard the boy hum thoughtfully over the line.

"What exactly do you do, anyway? I don't believe you've ever told me."

The dog smiled.

"Oh. It's nothing, really. Honestly…"

His voice lowered into a whisper.

"I really don't care much for this job, but it was all I could really find on such short notice."

He resumed his normal volume.

"I work at the local Hummer dealership...as a...salesman."

He paused, waiting for Stewie to say something.

"Salesman, eh? Hmmm. That doesn't sound too bad. Of course, I imagine it becomes harder when you have to sell something you yourself would never purchase. You don't strike me as someone who would happily drive around in a Hummer."

Brian shook his head.

"Not in the slightest."

The boy chuckled.

"Well, you do what you have to do, right? You're good with people. You can't be too bad at it."

The dog's tail wagged.

"I like to think I'm alright."

There was silence for a few beats before Stewie audibly sighed.

"Lois is about done it looks like."

The canine's tail sped up.

"Oh, great!"

He shifted his weight to his other elbow to get comfortable again.

"Yeah. Great. She's drying up now, so I guess I'll let you go… H-Have a good rest of your day."

Brian still didn't quite understand why Stewie was being so...well, nice, but he couldn't deny how good it felt to know someone cared, even if it was a little.

"You, too, kid, and hey, I'll talk to Lois about preschool for you. Ok?"

Brian was just barely able to hear the child thank him before the sound of Lois's voice overpowered him.

"Awwww! Is my big man talking on the phone?"

Though Brian was certainly glad to hear Lois's voice again, he couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed for Stewie's sake.

 _The kid must be sending her the meanest death glare, right now._

After the minor disturbance of handing over the phone was over, the sweet voice of his wife was right there in his ear again.

"Okay, Brian, I'm back. Wasn't that just precious? Stewie had to grab the phone and baby babble at you!"

"Yeah." The dog chuckled awkwardly. "So...so cute. Anyway. You got the dishes all done, huh? Your day goin' good, sweetie pie?"

"Um...sure. I mean, it's just an average day around here." There was an odd pause, during which Brian wondered for a split second if they had been disconnected. Then he heard Lois say, "Dear?"

"Yeah?" Brian prompted, thinking she wanted to ask him something.

"What?" responded Lois, sounding confused. "I didn't...say…. I don't have anything to say in particular."

"Oh," said the canine simply, vaguely puzzled. "Well...I...I actually have some exciting news!" He fibbed slightly, or maybe slightly more than slightly, but he didn't care, putting a good dose of enthusiasm into his voice, thinking of a way to show off for his wife.

"You do?" asked Lois curiously. "Well, what is it?"

"Today, the boss made a special point of pulling me aside as I came in and mentioning my improved sales numbers!" he boasted, though making a conscious effort to keep his voice down, in case anybody who happened to be listening knew that Paddy's remark about his sales had been delivered with a caveat.

"Aha," said Lois, not sounding quite as proud as he had hoped she would, but still, Brian could hear the smile in her voice. "Well, that's really great."

"Thank you," the dog replied, her praise made him sit up a little straighter and grin. He hesitated, then decided there was no harm in some small-scale exaggeration. "Yeah, he pretty much came over, thumped me right on the back, and said they were through the roof!"

"Congratulations, Brian!" his wife told him, seeming a bit more gung-ho now, and the canine was instantly pleased with himself for his tiny lie. More uplifted than he had a right to be, he impulsively blurted out,

"We should celebrate tonight!"

The suggestion hung there for several seconds, while Brian himself wondered just what he had meant by that comment, and also wondered if Lois had heard a double entendre in it. He didn't know he'd been holding his breath until he let it out when her eventual response came.

"Takeout! We'll order takeout! Takeout is a good idea, don't you think?"

It was strange to hear 'takeout' in three consecutive sentences. Or, one sentence fragment and then two consecutive sentences right after it. Good god, what was he spacing off about, while on the phone with his wife? Grammar? Well, he supposed that inner voice had to somehow talk down the hope that had started to form inside him.

Of course, it wasn't like Lois owed him for some improved sales numbers. He just never really stopped hoping for...well, to have that intimacy with her. He couldn't help it. She was so beautiful and sexy, and he loved her so much. And they were married.

If they had lived at certain points in history, they wouldn't even be considered legally wed, because their union hadn't been consummated. They didn't still do that, did they? In America? Anywhere? Could a marriage be annulled on the grounds that it wasn't consummated?

Christ, what was he _thinking_ about now?! History? Marriage law?

Fortunately, Lois apparently hadn't even noticed his inattentiveness. She was going on about how she thought they should get Chinese, and rattling off what each family member typically liked to order from their go-to Chinese restaurant.

Brian, however, was forced to interrupt her recitation once he caught sight of the time.

"Hey, hey, honey?" he said, breaking into her talking about how she'd cut up bites of the sweet and sour pork extra small for Stewie, because even he liked a little pork. "I gotta go now. Break time's over. I have to get off the phone with you."

"Huh? What?" Lois muttered distractedly, then caught up to what the dog was saying. "Oh… So soon?"

"I know, it sucks," Brian agreed. "I won't get to hear your lovely voice again until I get home." It was a gloomy thought, but then, feeling separated from Lois was always hard. Being a dog, he had experience missing her when she was out at the grocery store or something, time losing all meaning for him and seeming to stretch on and on until it felt like she'd been gone and would be gone forever. If the whole family was out, sometimes it even drove him to sit at the door, worrying, until they came back.

"If I get some downtime, though," the canine added, "like, if we're not busy, I could always try a quick phone call- "

"Oh, I wouldn't want to get you in trouble at work," said Lois quickly, all consideration. "I'll just talk to you when you get home, okay?"

"Okay," Brian replied, knowing he really had to be wrapping this up. "I love you."

"You, too, Brian." And with that, his beloved wife clicked off.

"Ahhhh, the newlywed," came a voice as somebody passed by the table where he sat. It was Sean, Paddy's nephew. He grinned and Brian sighed, hopping down off his chair and stretching his legs. He watched Sean pour himself a cup of coffee and figured he'd grab one, too, before clocking back in and resuming his work.

He stopped beside Sean at the coffee pot, who then continued with him to the front of the Hummer dealership, somewhat to Brian's annoyance. It wasn't like he considered Sean an enemy, exactly; he wasn't nearly as cranky or critical as his uncle, but his brand of friendliness made him obnoxious in a different way. And he _was_ the boss's nephew, as well as the top salesman, two facts which may or may not be connected, Brian hadn't decided yet.

"Yep," Sean went on, grinning, ignoring how the dog had yet to actually address him. "In the beginning, it's all cooing sweet nothings, but just you wait until you've been married for awhile. Things, er, take a turn." He smiled remarkably placidly for the gloomy words he was uttering. "Leaving for work in the morning will be an escape, and you absolutely won't want to call home during the day." Sean let out a shout of laughter. "And she won't want to hear from you!"

They were stopped outside Brian's cubicle now, and the canine offered a half-hearted chuckle in response to Sean's supposed words of wisdom.

"Yeesh, Sean, who ordered a little black rain cloud? Whadaya do, use up all your cheerfulness on the customers?"

The man laughed, evidently unoffended. "Oh, I always have plenty of cheerfulness stored up to use on them. You've gotta bring a positive attitude to this job, you know?" All of a sudden, he sounded like one of those dopey, robotic actors from the training video. "You're not excited to be here and they won't be, either. They feed right off your energy, Brian, right off it."

Brian let, "The parasites!" slip out before he could really think about it, but he made certain to grin widely so he couldn't be accused of negativity.

"Man." Sean shook his head and sipped his coffee audibly. "You want a parasite, I should tell you about my ex-wife." For the first time since Brian had met him, a trace of bitterness had crept into Sean's voice.

"Oh," the dog said awkwardly. "You're divorced. I didn't know that." Although it certainly explained a lot.

"Yeah…" sighed Sean, but then he pepped back up again. "I don't really like to talk about it. I've got other things to focus on, you know? I've got good things goin' on for me. I got number one salesman last month!" He announced it like everybody hadn't already heard. "Got that nice, fat bonus that goes with it…" He assumed a prideful pose, placing a hand on his hip and rocking smugly back and forth on the balls of his feet. "Gonna maybe use it to go the Caribbean, see what the honeys are about down there…"

Brian gave the obligatory smile. "That's awesome, Sean. You'll have to show me the pictures when you get back. But speaking of getting back, I really should be getting back to work…" He had some thank you notes to recent customers that he had to fill out, making sure to slip into each envelop an advertisement about the other services the Hummer dealership offered, detailing and alignments and such. And then he had a whole list of leads he had to call- he really ought to get cracking on that, try and get his numbers up into territory that was acceptable to Paddy, the pain in the ass…

Who was heading their way. Brian had a fleeting worry that he was about to be chewed out for not being at his desk, but Paddy appeared to be just passing by. Sean, however, called out to him and waved him over.

"Hey, Uncle Paddy, I've been meaning to talk to you. I'm going to need this Friday off. It's the only time the dentist can do my root canal."

Brian couldn't help but wince in sympathy. "Root canal? Ouch. Aren't those supposed to be, like, really painful?"

"Painful shmainful!" Paddy squawked. "You can't take care of your teeth, Sean? That's the start of our No Money Down Event! We need you here. We were expecting big things for that day, and instead our sales are gonna plummet!"

Didn't Paddy have faith in any of his employees besides Sean? Brian was irked. He thought of Stewie's words, on the phone a little while ago, about how the tyke had said that Brian ought to be a good salesman. How it had actually made Brian slightly more motivated. He _could_ be good at this. He _would_ be good at this, dammit! He'd show them all what he could do!

"I'm sorry, but sometimes stuff like this happens," Sean was apologizing. "It's only one day. That event goes on all weekend."

"What, you think I don't know that it takes a few days to recover from a root canal?" Paddy retorted. "Were you just planning on skipping out on work until ya feel all perfect again, ya tooth fairy?"

"Ah, don't give me that, Uncle Paddy!" groaned Sean, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'll be able to work the very next day, don't try to make me out to be a wuss."

"Yeah, I called you a fairy, so what, big whoop, wanna fight about it?"

Brian was just about to shuffle off back to his desk, but his attention was caught by a customer coming through the door of the dealership. In short order, the man- wearing an American flag T-shirt and a cowboy hat- likewise drew the attention of the star salesman, Sean. However…

"I'll let you have this one, Brian," said Sean. He looked over at his uncle. "Don't worry, he won't blow it. This is an easy one."

Paddy still appeared skeptical.

Brian forced a smile as he muttered his thanks and headed off in the direction of the new customer. He soon found himself directly across from the man, staring at the tattoo of an eagle on his large bicep.

Turning around and noticing the dog, the man led with,

"I'm here for something obnoxiously big, that guzzles gas like me and my bros guzzle beer, and is a danger to all other drivers on the road, because I love America!"

* * *

Hat askance and papers sticking haphazardly out of his briefcase, Brian entered the house after a long day at work to find his whole family hanging out in the living room. He felt almost like collapsing there, just inside the door. The couch was full up, anyway. However, he dragged himself over to the armchair and crawled up onto it with a sigh, depositing his briefcase on the floor before it.

"Brian?" said Lois, meeting his eyes, a surprised look on her face.

"Hmm? Yeah?" the canine asked tiredly. "What is it, sweetie?"

"You didn't hear me? I just asked how your day was."

Brian heaved a sigh, and squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds before opening them and regarding his family again. "Oh...long." He chuckled, striving to sound as easygoing as he could. "Work is work. Now I'm home. I'd rather talk about that." He smiled around at everyone, then aimed a particularly warm grin at his wife.

"Glad to be here. Glad to see your beautiful face and hear your lovely voice again."

"Eww, gross, Brian, not in front of us," Meg complained. Next to her, Stewie looked like he quite agreed, avoiding eye contact and looking cross.

Chris, meanwhile, elbowed his mother and said in a stage whisper, "Psst! Mom! I think he's trying to mack on you!"

Lois merely chuckled softly, clearly a little embarrassed by the kids' behavior. For the first time, Brian saw that she was holding a takeout menu.

"We ordering our food? Alright, I could do with some grub." He rubbed his paws together eagerly.

"Well, actually," said Lois, laying the menu aside. "We already ordered. So good news, the food will be here sooner than you thought!"

The canine felt a twinge of displeasure. "Oh… Oh, you- you already ordered? So what did you order for me? What am I getting?" He sounded irritable without meaning to. "I kinda would've liked to have picked out my own food." With a weak chuckle, he sat back tiredly in his chair.

He was nit-picking, surely. He was home, he would be eating shortly, and his family likely knew what to order for him. He was just touchy because it had been a trying day...well, which ones weren't? He couldn't go down that road, either, but the bottom line was he shouldn't see this as the final insult to pile on his day- his family being inconsiderate after he'd spent the day with inconsiderate people.

"You actually have your choice of several," said Lois in a conciliatory tone, seeming to pick up on his mood, like a good wife. "We ordered several family size dishes." She leaned over toward him and showed him on the menu, and he nodded his head in approval, smiling wearily.

The food came ten or fifteen minutes later, while most of them were engrossed in a T.V. movie. Their meal, however, soon became their new subject of focus, Lois dashing to the kitchen for plates, which then became heaped with food as they eagerly opened cartons and spooned up their food choices.

"Oh, not cashew chicken, Stewie," Lois objected, catching her infant son making his own choices. "You could choke on the nuts."

In the old days, Brian might have gone into the familiar verbal battle mode with Stewie, and jibed, "Well, you might as well get used to doing that, right?" at the child. But he couldn't say that to his child. That was one thing about their dynamic that had to change. He remembered going to Stewie, before marrying Lois, and talking about wanting to still be friends. But the banter part of their friendship was something that couldn't survive- or at least, it would have to be dialed way down.

It was kind of a bummer.

Instead of getting to make his joke, he listened to a variation on that theme, Stewie snarling at Lois that she could choke on his nuts.

As usual, everyone was hungry and they all polished off their meals speedily. The only consumable items then left were the fortune cookies- one for each family member. The kids were apparently still young enough to get a kick out of them, and they were the first to grab theirs. That left two: one for Lois and one for Brian.

"Which one do you want, Brian?" Lois asked playfully, holding one in either hand out to him for his inspection.

The dog sniffed- not the fortune cookies, but in indignation.

"Lois. Please…" he drawled. "Does it really matter?"

She chuckled and thrust her hands toward him again insistently. "C'mon, Brian, you do this every time, you've got to play along! You can't just snatch one at random- you've got to make a deliberate choice!"  
He was pleased she appeared to be having a good evening, and was she ever charming with that teasing expression on her face. To him, though, playing along was continuing to scoff for awhile.

"Why? I know you don't really believe in this mumbo jumbo, either. The fortunes aren't individually placed by some clairvoyant who then," he wiggled his fingers out in front of himself in a 'mysterious' manner, "spells the cookies to make sure the exact right people get the exact right fortunes."

He was distracted, then, by a loud _whoop_ coming out of Chris. The middle Griffin child pumped his fist in the air and waved around the tiny slip from inside the cookie.

"Yay! Travel to far-off lands awaits me!"

Lois pressed a cookie into Brian's paw and rolled her eyes at her husband. "I know it's not real," she said. Her voice had gone quite dry. "God, Brian, you're such a bore, sometimes. It's just a game. After all, no one can _really_ predict life's outcomes, can they?"

"Mine says to believe in myself!" cheered Meg.

"Yeah, yeah, shut up, Meg," muttered Stewie indifferently, batting a hand. He cracked open his own cookie and read the contents out loud. "If you want the rainbow, you have to tolerate the rain." He sat with that thoughtfully for a moment. "I don't know if I love that or hate that…"

Meanwhile, Brian had been a silent observer, Lois's words having temporarily stolen all of his. Was this the first time she'd outright insulted him since their marriage? And why had she sounded so sad and tense?

She didn't sound like that anymore, as she read her fortune to the room in an optimistic-sounding voice.

"Welcome the change coming into your life."

It was like as soon as she realized what she'd read, she didn't like it, crumpling up the little slip of paper and tossing it away. "Ah, well," she said, totally blasé now. "They can't all be gems." She stood up from the couch and started taking her family's plates to return to the kitchen. "That one was too obvious. Change is happening to everybody, all the time."

"Well, let's see what the future has in store for me," said Brian brightly, with a sort of vaudeville-type air, making a show out of holding out the cookie, slowing cracking it in half, and reading out the tiny typed message dramatically.

"You learn from your mistakes- and soon you will learn a lot."

* * *

That night, after all the kids had gone off to bed in their separate rooms, Brian stayed up for about another hour watching T.V. He had offered for Lois to join him on the couch, but she had turned him down, saying she'd rather get some reading in before bed. Hearing that only served to make Brian consider actually working on some of his own writing. He hadn't sat down and really written anything since he got the job at the dealership. He'd only considered it for a second, though, before turning back to whatever was playing on the screen. The spark wasn't really there, major writer's block. He'd get through it, though. All writers had their dry spells, right?

So, that's how he spent the rest of his time before finally deciding to turn in for the night, flipping off the television before heading upstairs to join his wife in...well, in the room. He stepped through the door, and was actually relieved to see that she was reading. She hadn't lied about that.

 _And what reason did you have to suspect that she had?_

At his entrance, Lois lowered her book and smiled at him.

"Finally, decided to come to bed?"

The dog nodded.

"Yeah. Figured I shouldn't stay up too late, you know. Work tomorrow."

The woman hummed in understanding before burying her face back into her book. Not wanting to disturb her, Brian left it at that as he removed his tie and fedora and set them aside for tomorrow. After a quick trip to the bathroom to brush his teeth and handle other business, he hopped up in his bed and sighed in comfort. He almost passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow, but he didn't want to fall asleep without saying goodnight to Lois first. He looked over at her and just watched her for a while. She was so beautiful. He smiled, and the woman must have felt his eyes on her because it didn't take long for Lois to look over in his direction.

"Something on your mind?"

The dog shrugged.

"Just captivated by your beauty."

There was an awkward pause before Lois finally chuckled in a way that seemed...nervous to Brian.

"Well, tha-that's sweet, Brian."

She closed her book.

"I think I'll call it a night, too. I don't want to keep you up with the light. You getting Stewie up in the morning again?"

At the mention of the child's name, Brian remembered what he had intended to talk to Lois about. He mentally kicked himself for forgetting his promise, however briefly. He needed to be more mindful of those things.

"Actually, now that you mention him, I wanted to ask you something about Stewie."

Lois, who was in the process of reaching over to turn off her lamp, stopped and turned back to look at Brian, eyebrow raised.

"My little man? What about him?"

The dog sat up.

"He's been out of preschool for a while now, right?"

Lois set her book aside and sat up, as well.

"It's...been a few months. Why do you ask?"

Brian paused briefly before answering.

"It's just, I remember you mentioning getting him enrolled back in preschool several weeks ago, and well, that still hasn't happened. Were you still planning to do that soon?"

The woman frowned slightly.

"I guess I let the time really get away from me…"

Brian felt a slight ache in his heart at seeing his wife upset.

"It...It happens, Lois. There's nothing wrong with it. You've had a lot on your mind. I just figured it was about time that happened. It's, well, it's good for the kid, you know? And, I'm sure he may even miss it a little."

The woman nodded her head, forcing the frown off her face.

"You're right. I'll take care of that tomorrow. I appreciate your input. It's good that you care."

Brian smiled at this

"I care about you and the kids. You know I do."

He met his wife's eyes, and his heart jumped in his chest. This moment, it was probably the most tender one they'd had since getting married. He leaned in towards the woman.

"I _love_ you and the kids."

Lois didn't move.

"We love you, too, Brian…"

The dog gulped. Now, was as good a time as any.

"You know, it gets lonely over here by myself, honey."

And just like that, any warmth that had been there froze over. Brian almost jumped at the sudden change in mood. Lois's eyes went blank, and she layed back down.

"Goodnight, Brian."

The light went off, leaving the room completely dark as Brian continued to sit up in bed awkwardly. He stayed there for several seconds before finally finding the will to move.

"Good-Goodnight, Lois."

He layed back down and shut his eyes, trying to ignore how much that had hurt. He had to focus on other things, right now, like getting enough sleep so he could wake up and just repeat the routine all over again. His routine. The day to day. This was his life now. He had wanted this. He turned on his side facing away from Lois. This is what was going to make him happy. He sighed.

 _Then why do I feel so sad?_


	4. Chapter 3: Kisses from My Stepdoggy?

**Chapter 3: Kisses from My Stepdoggy?**

The infant sat in his carseat, not saying a word. This was the first time since the...marriage that Brian had been tasked with the duty of dropping the tyke off at preschool, and for some reason the boy couldn't quite put his finger on, the change in routine made him feel...awkward. Of course, for the past several weeks, being around Brian had felt a little off, anyway, something he had been trying to figure out. So, maybe this close proximity feeling so strange shouldn't be all that surprising.

Stewie had tried to make it clear to Brian that he simply couldn't view him has a parental figure, "step" or otherwise, but the damn dog was dead set on placing himself in that role. The child felt like he had to fight to keep their dynamic the same it had always been. Any attempt to talk like they used to was mostly brushed aside, and it was. So. Frustrating. Which wasn't to say that Brian was ignoring him, far from it. He was probably getting more attention from the canine than ever, now, and in a way, that was...nice. If he could somehow have that while still once again feeling like Brian's equal, he could have the best of both worlds. When it came right down to it, though, he preferred being taken seriously. He hated being treated like a child, especially by Brian.

"So, what have they been teaching you in preschool, kiddo?"

The boy scoffed.

"You really think they have anything to teach me?"

The dog shrugged but didn't say anything. Stewie crossed his arms.

"That was a serious question, Brian."

The dog turned his head to look at him briefly before responding.

"Look, I know you're smart, but I'm sure there's plenty you could learn. What have you been doing there?"

The baby sighed and shook his head.

"We're going over shapes, very basic stuff. I mainly tune it out. I just like getting away from the house. That's the only benefit I see in going."

The canine hummed thoughtfully.

"What is it about being at home that you dislike so much? You have it pretty good, Stewie. One day you'll see that."

There it was, that patronizing tone. God, Stewie just wanted to clock him one on that muzzle whenever the dog talked to him that way.

"I really shouldn't have to answer that question. If you can't understand where my frustration stems from, then you really are no better than anyone else."

They pulled up into the carpool lane behind the other cars in line dropping off the other preschoolers. The dog turned to him again, frowning.

"No, Stewie, I get it. I'm just saying that, in the grand scheme of things, being so bitter about being treated your age is not that big of a problem. You have it good, kid."

The boy simply batted his hand at the mutt, so done with this conversation.

"Whatever."

The line was moving quickly, and it didn't take long for it to be Stewie's turn to get out. Brian reached over to undo the tyke.

"Like I said, one day you'll see."

As he finished undoing the straps, the dog leaned in and gave the infant a peck on the cheek.

"Have a good day, kid."

The boy suppressed a gasp and shivered at the contact but was soon pulled away from the shock as one of the workers opened the door and helped him out of the car. The dog waved at him with a smile, and Stewie waved back still in a daze before watching as the car drove off down the street. For a minute, he just stood there, baffled, but was soon urged to move along by the worker. He turned to head into the building, but his focus was not on the day ahead.

 _Why does he...do that?_

Though, that wasn't exactly the question he mainly wanted answered. He was pretty sure he knew why Brian had started giving him pecks on the cheek from time to time. It was just another "fatherly" thing he could do, showering affection on his young infant stepson. It made the child want to gag when he thought about it, but when it actually happened…

His reaction to being kissed the first time was one of pure shock. It came as a complete surprise, and at the time, that had made sense. Brian had never done that. He had never expected him to. They were friends. Friends didn't kiss friends, as far as he knew. But, after the first time, he was able to quickly reason why it had happened, and from that point, he knew he should expect them. After all, Brian simply didn't treat him like just a friend, anymore. So, why did he still feel so stunned every time it happened? It didn't make sense. When he shivered, it wasn't out of the normal disgust he felt whenever someone like Lois or a grandparent would kiss him. For a while, he tried to tell himself that was the case, but no, that wasn't it…

Dammit! It seemed like at every turn there was always just one more thing to be confused about when it came to this new Brian situation. It was driving him nuts! So, what? Stepdoggy wanted to give little baby Stewie a kiss here and there. That's all it was. There was nothing to make out of it. There was no reason to feel so surprised every time it happened. There was no explanation as to why his mind would go all fuzzy the instant the dog's lips touched him. If it was there, surely someone of his great intellect could have solved the puzzle by now, but no, it had been weeks and he still couldn't help but go stiff and gasp like a moron at the action.

The child entered the building and made his way into the classroom, ignoring everything around him as he found a corner where he could be alone and continue to dive into his thoughts.

He was trying to adjust. He really was. This is how things were now, and no matter how much it may bug him, he couldn't change them. He'd accepted that, and there were times when he felt like he was coming close to finally finding a sense of normality again. But, that would never last long. Something would happen, Brian would do something that threw him off, and he'd be right back at square one trying desperately to get a handle on his emotions, trying desperately just to understand them!

He sighed. This was so exhausting. It couldn't be like this forever...right?

* * *

"There's my little man! Did you have a good day?"

The woman leaned in to buckle up her son into his carseat before driving off. The day had flown by. Did he have a good day? Stewie could hardly remember what his day had actually consisted of. His focus had been totally consumed by thoughts of Brian as sad as that was to acknowledge. What he wouldn't do to get that mutt out of his head…

The woman was rattling on about her day, speaking to him in the usual tone she reserved for her infant son, apparently thinking Stewie actually cared. The child just leaned over and stared out the window, trying to tune her out. He wasn't in the mood to listen to her, not that he ever really was, but it was especially grating now.

As they got closer to home, Lois must have realized her son was in an ill humor because she ceased talking about her day and began speaking in a more sympathetic tone.

"Awww. What's the matter, baby? Are you in a bad mood?"

The infant closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

 _What was your first clue..?_

They pulled into the driveway, and Lois unbuckled the boy before picking him up and exiting the car. Once they were in the house, the woman gave the boy a quick peck on the cheek before setting him down. The child shivered in disgust, the normal reaction.

"There, honey. Go play. Maybe you'll feel better before dinner."

As the woman walked away, the infant rolled his eyes.

"Oh, what a good mother you are, acknowledging that I'm upset only to run off and leave me to my own devices. Bravo, Lois…"

He turned and stomped his way up the stairs and into his room before slamming the door shut. He needed to get his mind off of this Brian thing. He needed something to distract him. He thought about working on an invention, but he didn't really have any in the works, at the moment, and his inspiration for new gadgets was at an all time low. Unfortunately, that was his usual way of refocusing his thoughts. The only other distraction he had available to him was his toys. He sighed.

 _Why the hell not?_

He walked over to his toy chest and began tossing various toys out onto the floor. He wasn't sure what he was going to need. He wanted to keep his options open. After digging around for a while, he shut the box and sat down on the floor, looking over all the various toys he'd pulled out.

None of it looked very appealing. His eyes landed on a toy train, and he half-heartedly grabbed hold of it and pushed it along the carpet. Under his breath, he made some weak train noises, but after only a couple minutes or maybe less, he abandoned playing with the train.

Chanting, "I think I can't! I think I can't! I think I can't have fun with you!", he stood and kicked the lines of cars away from him. "All aboard to Boredom Town!"

He sat back down heavily on his heels again and crossed his arms over his chest. He then noticed that the train had hit one of his dolls. Without really thinking about it, the child found himself kneeling back up and reaching across to grab the doll.

It was one of the male dolls he used quite often, sometimes letting him play the character of Secret Agent Greg, and most recently seen in the role of Brad, someone's hapless fiance, a drip of a part, really.

Stewie seized the train again, and as he sat back with it in one hand and the man doll in the other, his gaze cast about for another toy. He finally saw it- a small boy doll. He picked it up, too, and besides things not being to scale, he made the adult doll and child doll sit on top of the train.

"What a great Take Your Child to Work Day!" the tyke made the boy doll enthuse. "I bet none of my classmates have a dad with such a cool job as train conductor!"

"I'm glad you're having such a good time," Stewie made the man doll respond in a deeper voice. "They don't get to travel as much as you do, either. Remember all our great trips?"

The boy doll replied giddily, "Oh, yes! We've had such fun, D- daaaa…" Stewie found he was having the most peculiar difficulty in making the little boy doll address the older doll as 'Dad'.

"Oh, that's okay, Steven," he said, making the man doll talk instead, using a deep-voiced, understanding tone. "You don't have to call me that if you don't want to. I'm fine with you sticking with 'Brad'. In fact, I'm fine with you always continuing to call me that."

"Really?" The boy doll sounded happy to hear this news.

"Yes, of course. I'm not here to replace your father. Let's think of each other as friends first and foremost. But of course- " The man doll adopted a joking tone, "that doesn't mean that you don't get some of the perks that come from having a dad. Like having him get you out of school for Take Your Child to Work Day!"

The two dolls laughed together. Then, Stewie made the 'Steven' doll spot an ice cream shop coming up on the route.

"Look, Brad! Ice cream! Oh, I could really go for some ice cream right about now! Is having you buy me an ice cream cone one of the perks of having a dad?"

"Oh, I suppose it could be, son!" The man doll chuckled. His hand touched the boy doll's hand. "Here. Take some money. I'll let you off to get an ice cream."

'Steven' replied excitedly, "Thanks!" and Stewie slowed the train to a stop. The boy doll was about to disembark.

"Anytime," said 'Brad', and then it seemed like Stewie was more an observer than the one responsible for their actions as 'Brad' moved to kiss 'Steven's' cheek.

It was like the bottom of Stewie's stomach dropped out, and his hand tightened reflexively around the 'Steven' doll.

"Is that…" the boy doll said dumbly, struggling to speak, "...is that a...perk?"

Scarcely was the dialogue out of his mouth but Stewie was kicking the train away again, Brad still onboard. The infant's stomach tightened and twisted, and he leaned forward, hugging his knees, squeezing his fist around the boy doll. While concentrating on trying to alleviate his nausea and bringing some coherent thoughts back into a head that seemed suddenly quite oxygen deprived, he barely registered a small object go flying in front of his eye. It wasn't until it landed with a barely audible sound that he noticed it was 'Steven's' head.

The baby looked at the headless body in his hand and laughed almost deliriously. He must have squeezed too hard. Oh, well. It wasn't an irreparable problem. He'd help 'Steven' find his head later.

For now, he had to find his own.

* * *

For the next hour or so, Stewie found that he was succumbing to a massive stomach ache. He tried to fight it off, but it was just too much. Now, he was doubled over on the floor in a fetal position clutching his abdomen, hoping the pain would pass soon.

 _Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn!_

He had wanted his head clear, and he had gotten his wish. It was simply impossible to care much about Brian when there was such immense pain coursing through him. It was so intense that he failed to notice his door opening and someone entering his room.

"Stewie?"

The boy looked up and saw Brian standing in his doorway wearing that adorable hat of his. He groaned both from the pain and from the indignity of the dog finding him in such a state.

"Stewie?!"

The dog ran over and kneeled down beside him. The child struggled to sit up, trying his best to play off his condition.

"Huh? What is it? What do you want? Why are you up here?"

The dog draped an arm over his shoulder.

"Lois said something about you being cranky. I was just coming up to check up on you. Are you ok? Are you sick?"

The infant shook his head rapidly.

"No! I'm fine. It'll pass. It was probably just something I ate."

The dog didn't look convinced.

"What did you eat?"

The child went to answer, but found he was unable to. He honestly couldn't remember what he had eaten that day. So, he just remained silent. The dog was obviously waiting for an answer, but he eventually sighed when he realized one wasn't coming.

"What do you need, kid?"

 _I need things to go back to the way they were before!_

"I don't need anything, Brian. I told you I'll be fine. It's just a mild tummy ache."

The canine nodded his head but the frown on his face remained.

"It doesn't look mild to me, Stewie, but...if you say you're alright, I'll believe you."

The child felt his heart stop for a brief moment at those words.

"Thank you, Brian."

And he hugged him. He clutched the dog tightly, not caring about how it made him look. He just wanted to enjoy this small comfort. The pain in his stomach didn't feel as bad anymore, though it was still there. The dog hugged him back before standing up.

"Dinner will be ready soon. You gonna be able to eat?"

The boy stood up, as well and shrugged.

"I can't answer that. I guess we'll see."

The dog turned to leave, and the infant followed after him. He was tired of being cooped up in his room, and the dog's presence was a comfort to him. He knew that much. So, he followed him all the way downstairs and onto the couch, settling in to watch whatever it was the dog chose to watch and fighting the urge to scoot over and lean into his side, nestle into that fur and fall asleep completely at peace.

* * *

"Alright, everyone, dinner!"

The child was torn away from his slumber by the hideous screeching of his mother's voice. He grimaced before yawning and opening his eyes. He awoke to find himself leaning into Brian's side, the canine's arm draped over him. His grimace was soon replaced with a smile as he stayed there for a few seconds longer before finally sitting up. The dog looked over at him and smiled.

"Hey, you feeling any better?"

The boy took a second to consider the question, allowing himself to fully wake up before he was able to tell what the condition of his stomach pains was. There was still some slight discomfort, but he definitely didn't feel as bad as before. He nodded.

"Yeah, a little."

At that moment, Lois seemed to materialize from behind the couch as she leaned over to pick up her baby boy.

"Come on, sweetie. It's time to eat."

The boy groaned at the mention of food.

"Not that you care, but I don't really think I have much of an appetite, right now."

As she carried him off to the dining room, Stewie watched as Brian got up from his seat to stretch before following after them and taking his place at the head of the table. The woman sat Stewie down in his high chair that sat between her and Brian before moving to fix plates for everyone. Chris and Meg soon entered the dining room, as well. Brian turned to address them.

"Hey, there you guys are. I was beginning to wonder if you ever made it back from school."

A cheesy laugh followed his chiding comment. Stewie cringed, but a part of him was laughing on the inside. Seeing Brian so desperately try to be so "dad-like" was always weird, but you had to give the dog credit for his dedication. There was a certain charm to that, Stewie thought, though his siblings obviously didn't feel similarly. They just stared at the canine awkwardly before finally sitting down, not even bothering to reply. Stewie huffed.

 _Hmph. Rude._

In short order, the Griffin family matriarch had placed a plate of freshly cooked spaghetti in front of each of her family members. She then took a seat as everyone minus Stewie started to dig in. The boy went to take a bite but stopped, still feeling ill. His appetite was just non-existent. So, he sat there as the others ate in silence until Brian spoke up, trying to get some conversation started.

"So, uh, I might be coming home a little later these next several days. My coworker Sean is going to be going on vacation, and they need me to kind of pick up some of the slack. It kind of sucks, but hey, more hours is, on the whole, a good thing, you know?"

For a moment, nobody said anything back. Eventually, though, Lois did respond.

"Well, I'll make sure to have you something to eat whenever you get in. It's the least I could do since you're working so hard."

The dog smiled at her.

"Thanks, honey."

The woman smiled back ever so slightly before taking another bite of her spaghetti. The dog continued to stare at her, though, with those pathetic love-stricken eyes. Stewie groaned before interjecting.

"So, is, uh, Sean like your work buddy or something?"

The canine was finally able to pry his gaze away as he turned to answer the child.

"Huh? Oh, well, he's not really a buddy. We talk, though. I didn't choose to pick up his slack. My boss told me I had to."

As Stewie went to say something else, his mother decided to rudely butt her way into their conversation.

"Brian? Who are you talking to?"

The dog looked up at Lois surprised.

"Oh. I was just talking to Stewie."

The woman's eyes lit up as she looked down at her son.

"Were you talking to Brian, my sweet little man?"

The infant sighed and placed his palm over his face, prompting the canine to chuckle before lightly punching his shoulder and whispering.

"It's alright, kid. She loves you."

The child looked up in annoyance.

"She loves me so much she refuses to see me for myself, is that it?"

He scoffed.

"Well, I guess she does it with the men in her life."

The dog visibly flinched at the comment, and for a second, Stewie almost felt bad for what he said...almost. He'd most certainly meant it. The table fell back into silence. Not even Chris and Meg were doing their usual bickering. If it weren't for how abnormal it all was, the child would have found the quiet pretty nice.

"Awwww. Stewie, baby, you haven't even touched your food. Did mommy not cut it up enough?"

About at his last straw, the boy went to retort, but Brian ended up speaking first.

"He's probably just not hungry, Lois. You mentioned him not feeling good earlier, after all."

The infant appreciated Brian voicing what he wanted to say, even if he still hated that he needed someone to speak for him when it came to communicating with his mother. However, any appreciation he was feeling towards the canine soon turned sour as the dog continued.

"I have to say, though, the kid is missing out. This spaghetti is delicious, my dear."

As he uttered the compliment, the mutt smiled sweetly at his wife and reached over to place his hand on hers. Stewie could see the woman flinch away from the touch, though, she didn't pull away completely. Of course, Brian didn't seem to notice this. The child rolled his eyes as the pitiful display continued, as Brian started stroking Lois's hand, waiting for her to say something sweet back. The woman only offered up a barely audible thank you, but this seemed to satisfy Brian as he continued to eat, never removing his hand. Stewie's eyes locked on their hands, and he just watched as the dog continued to stroke his mother's so tenderly. It was sickening, and he could feel the pain in his stomach coming back full force. He gripped his abdomen and groaned, pushing the plate of spaghetti as far away as he could, not wanting to even look at food. No one seemed to notice this, though, until the plates were clean and Lois was collecting dishes. With the woman finally gone, Brian was able to focus on something else for a change and notice the pained look on Stewie's face. He frowned, worried.

"Hey, kid, are you alright?"

The boy just shook his head, not even wanting to pretend. He just didn't have it in him, at the moment. Brian continued to watch him for a while longer before finally getting up from his seat and grabbing the infant from his high chair.

"Hey, Lois! I'm going to go put Stewie to bed! He's, uh, looking tired!"

The reply came from the kitchen.

"Ok! Give him a goodnight kiss for me!"

Without wasting anymore time, the dog carried the boy up the stairs and into his room. He set the child down and walked him over to the closet.

"Come on, Stewie. Let's get you in bed. You'll feel better in the morning."

The baby didn't say anything back, just nodded his head and followed the canine's lead as his blue sleeper was retrieved. The dog kneeled down and quickly undressed the boy before helping him into the sleeper. He then collected the used garments and walked over to lower the bars of Stewie's crib so the tyke could climb in. It took a little more effort than normal, but Stewie was able to pull himself up into the crib and get under the covers. He laid down and immediately felt his eyes grow heavy when his head hit the pillow. The dog smiled at him and tucked him in, and Stewie smiled back, wanting to thank him for caring but unable to get the words out. Once the boy was good and settled in, Brian spoke to him.

"Would you like a bedtime story before I go?"

The young child nodded his head yes, not wanting Brian to go just yet. The dog walked to the other side of the room and began looking through the available books on the shelf. Stewie watched as the canine went about the task of finding a good story for him, unable to hold down the chuckle that escaped him when Brian started tapping his chin thoughtfully.

 _Heh. Cute._

At last, the dog settled on a choice. He grabbed the book and walked back over to Stewie but not before grabbing one of the little plastic chairs in the room for him to sit in. He took a seat and held up the book for the boy to see. Stewie read the title out loud.

"The Little Prince."

The dog nodded his head.

"This one ok?"

No one had read this book to Stewie, yet, but the title sounded interesting enough. He smiled at the dog.

"Sure."

Brian grinned back and opened the book to the first page.

"It's a longer one than you're used to, so it may take me a few nights to finish but there are some cool illustrations in here, too. I think you'll like it."

In this moment, the child decided to trust the dog's judgement and settled in to enjoy this new story.

And what a story it was! My word! Brian didn't read for very long, but in that short amount of time, the toddler was hooked on this fascinating story. It was full of such deftly written prose and meaning. He couldn't wait to hear more. He had to make sure Brian read to him tomorrow night, too. By the time, the dog reached his stopping point and closed the book, the child's eyes were wide with fascination.

"Alright. That's enough for tonight. What did you think?"

The boy pointed at the book as he spoke.

"That was fantastic. How come no one has read this to me before?"

The dog shrugged.

"They probably think you're still too young for it. I know better, though."

The infant's heart swelled in his chest, and he wasn't completely certain but it felt like his cheeks were getting hot. The canine stood up and leaned over the child.

"Now, I know you won't like it, but Lois wanted me to give you a kiss for her."

The infant froze at the words, not sure how to respond. He wasn't even really given much of a chance to because in the next instant Brian had leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. A small, barely audible gasp escaped him as he jumped at the contact, but the biggest surprise came when he felt another kiss being placed on his opposite cheek. It was too much. He gasped again as he felt his whole body grow warm. He could barely register that the dog had pulled away and was now smiling down at him. He gulped and reached up to place his hand over the cheek where that second kiss had been placed.

"Wha-what was that for?"

Brian guffawed, obviously amused by his reaction.

"What do you think? You got one from Lois, but that doesn't mean you can't have one from me."

The boy chuckled, trying his best to compose himself and play everything off.

"Oh. Haha. Yes, of course."

Once his bout of fraudulent mirth had concluded, the dog raised the bars of the crib and gave the child one last tender gaze.

"Goodnight, Stewie."

He, then, turned and proceeded out of the room, making sure to cut the light off and shut the door behind him. Only once he was gone did the boy finally answer in a whisper.

"Goodnight...Brian."

The tyke rolled over onto his side, but his hand remained on his cheek. Usually at this point, he'd be consumed with the need to puzzle over just why he continued to react this way to Brian's kisses. This time, though, he simply didn't have the energy. It wasn't like his stomach was still bothering him all that much. No, it wasn't that. Something else had caused him to feel drained of energy, and he wasn't exactly sure what. Another mystery. But, this was one he honestly felt no pressure about solving. Something else was clear, now. In the whirlwind of emotions that came about after being kissed by Brian, Stewie thought he could at last pinpoint at least one, and in his heart he knew that Brian's show of affection had made him feel...happy. He closed his eyes, smiling, allowing his mind to posit one last question before he drifted off to sleep.

 _Wait. I like kisses from my stepdoggy?_

The child just hummed in contentment.

 _Yes. Yes, I do..._


	5. Chapter 4: No Satisfaction

**Chapter 4: No Satisfaction**

Brian awoke before his alarm sounded, and sat up groggily in bed, blinking at it in some surprise while smacking his gums. He had only to conclude that his daily routine had now become such a part of him that his very system had caught on. He knew when to wake up.

In accordance with his routine, the dog lingered in bed for a few minutes, yawning and stretching and preparing himself mentally to face the day. And, as usual, he paused to watch Lois slumbering, over there in her own single bed.

 _Single bed. Married people._ _ **Single**_ _bed._

It just seemed wrong. Brian felt the familiar pang of loneliness and rejection. Still, he kept telling himself that things would change. They _had_ jumped into this marriage a bit, he had to admit. Oh, it was the right decision, Brian was thoroughly convinced about that! But she hadn't had time to process everything, and that had led to their current difficulty.

She was so relaxed in sleep… She lay on her side, facing him, and Brian gazed upon her lovely visage adoringly. Her expression was so open and untroubled, free of the tension it so often held during the day.

If he went over and perched on the edge of her bed, stroked her hair and her cheek, and kissed her awake, would she be upset that he didn't let her sleep? That _would_ be kind of rude, Brian supposed. Lois had a lot to do during the day, as well, and if she was tired, she was tired.

A mumble escaping her lips caught the canine's attention and gave him a little flutter of embarrassment as he automatically darted his eyes away from her. Then, just as swiftly, he turned back toward her, scolding himself for being a damn idiot who was embarrassed for getting caught staring at his own wife. So what if she saw him looking?

So he looked back at Lois, and found himself looking at her writhing softly on the bed. Brian watched curiously. Was she in the process of waking up? She murmured a string of nonsense words against her pillow.

As the dog sat and observed, waiting to find out what would happen next, his wife began to kick her legs in an awkward but almost desperate manner, like someone who had never swum before, but was determined to figure it out after they were already in the water. Lois kicked the covers clean off, but still appeared to be completely asleep.

No sooner had the woman quit thrashing about did she reach a hand down- Brian's heart stopped, and he was sure his eyes bulged out of his head- and begin to rub her hand against the front of her nightgown...down between her legs.

Brian was stricken. It was mesmerizing, obviously, but...well, the dog had had a working theory that Lois didn't really have a sex drive, currently. It would make sense, with all the stress and trauma, and would explain why she had yet to, uh...share any meaningful physical closeness with her new husband.

She continued to make a variety of little sleepy noises that now definitely also sounded aroused. Brian found he had scooted himself over to the edge of the bed, about to fall out, actually… He steadied himself, but kept on leaning forward toward Lois's bed, waiting with bated breath, thinking he might hear his name spill from her lips.

There were no discernible words yet, just sounds. Lois moved onto her stomach, gently rolling her hips against the mattress. Brian made his own sound, whimpering. He was stiffening rapidly. It was a beautiful sight, to watch her curvy body move in lust…

The air was rent by the ugly, loud, cacophonous sound of the alarm finally going off, breaking into the scene and shattering the erotic scene before him. The dog turned and frantically swatted at the button to turn it off, but too late. For once, Lois failed to sleep through her husband's blaring alarm, and as he looked back over at her, she was stirring again, but not in the way she had previously. She slowly propped herself up on her arms, eyes still shut. Brian's stunner of a wife scrubbed the heel of a hand over a sleepy eye, and muttered one confused but intelligible word as she, unseeing, continued to sit up.

"Peter?"

* * *

"It's just a big decision; that's why I'm having so much trouble making up my mind," said the man sitting across the desk from Brian. His name was Mr. Brookes or something, as far as the dog could remember. Brian took a swig of coffee and eyed the man understandingly, nodding along as he spoke.

"Take all the time you need."

Mr. B. (for the canine was fairly certain it was a 'B' name, like his own first name) reacted to Brian's patience as though the salesman was putting further pressure on him. He scratched at an elbow agitatedly. This man, this Mr. Forgettable, might at least become memorable for his scratching. He seemed to scratch himself far more than even Brian did.

"My wife, see- I think I told you, didn't I?- she was pretty much against me getting a Hummer, at first. That's why I left last time saying I'd think about it."

Damn it, Brian really _should_ be able to remember this guy's name! Especially given that they _had_ met before, and the man had made a special appointment for today to look at the motor vehicle monstrosities they sold here.

He was a professional salesman, now. He couldn't just forget a name. Names were important. Names informed everything everyone did ever.

They were attached to one's good name. They either fit you or they didn't, but names made such an impression that they either went with a face or didn't. They were what you used to call out to a buddy, to get his attention and not someone's else. They left a lover's sighing lips…

"I mean, it's going to be my main source of transportation, so…" Mr. B. chuckled nervously, now scratching the back of his hand. "It's just really important to make the right call. I don't wanna be driving around in something that… Well, it just sucks to have regrets about something as important as your car, you know?"

"Mmhm, mmhm," the dog muttered, but he wasn't even looking at his client anymore. He was letting his gaze wander around the dealership. There had to be something to look at that was more interesting than the forgettable Mr. B. and his apparently extremely dry skin. God, work was...tedious. Maybe it wasn't exactly supposed to be fun. He was the man of his house, now. He could acknowledge that and deal with that, but there should be something here to keep his mind...stimulated. To keep it from wandering.

He could see the water cooler from his desk. He watched a couple of his co-workers, standing chatting by it. One was filling up that funny-looking water bottle. Environmentally conscious, to carry a reusable water bottle. How much of the damage caused by selling people Hummers did that cancel out?

Actually… As Brian looked more fixedly at the water bottle, he noticed that the reason it looked so peculiar was how curvy it was. A curvy water bottle… Well, that wasn't all that unusual, was it? Didn't most of them have curves? Ergonomic design, right? Good places for...your hands to go. Maybe what made that bottle look so unique was the _placement_ of the curves. It looked almost like…

"Women, you know," said Mr. B., suddenly speaking up, weak laughter underlining his speech, evidently attempting a joke. It was enough to bring Brian back to reality and shame him out of...for fuck's sake, he'd been ogling a water bottle!

"Often they only care about getting the right color," Brian's client went on. "Me, I gotta look at all my choices, and it's not just between these two models…" He tapped his fingers against the fact sheets that the dog had had printed up about the contending SUV's Mr B. was looking at.

"Either way, you can't go wrong!" Brian interjected in his bright, enthusiastic salesman's voice, hating himself slightly as he did so. Was it worse to sound like he bought his own shit, or to sound unconvincing? Either way, it did not seem to have much of an effect on Mr. B., who was now scratching his shoulder. Brian wondered vaguely if he had a contagious skin disease.

"I have to decide which model to get…" the itchy client said thoughtfully, softly, almost to himself, while Brian was itching to move this sale or non-sale, whatever it was going to be, along. "And then I need to think about if I want any upgrades…"

"Would you like another test drive, er, uh- buddy?" Brian asked desperately. _Get him out of here, even for a minute! Give me just a minute's break from him!_ "You can try them both out again, really get a feel…"

At that moment, they were interrupted by a cell phone ringtone. The sounds of _Sexual Healing_ filled the dealership. The phone, it turned out, was residing in Mr. B's pocket. The man pulled it out, looked at it, hesitated, and, with an abashed look on his face, glanced back over at Brian.

"It's, uh...this is my wife. I think I have to take it."

"That's fine," the dog said hurriedly, easily disregarding the advice Paddy had given him about never leaving a customer alone. "You know what, I could actually use a restroom break, so if you'll excuse me…" He hopped down from his chair and made his way around his desk and out of the cubicle. "Take all the time you need!" he reiterated over his shoulder.

The employee bathroom was empty, and Brian sat with the lid down on a toilet seat, wishing he had a smoke or a drink or anything to take the edge off today. He groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

He was stupid. Today wasn't even a particularly bad day, was it? He'd woken in his bedroom with the woman he loved. Now that it was summer vacation, the kids didn't have to get up for school (except for Stewie with his preschool), but they'd been cooperative and gotten up without a fuss just to eat the French toast he'd cooked for breakfast. Traffic on the streets had been good. Even Stewie had been docile for Stewie, even telling Brian to have a good day when the dog had pecked him goodbye on the cheek.

And as far as customers went, boring, indecisive ones were nothing new, and even a disconcertingly itchy one wasn't the worst. He'd had customers who were perfectly genial, then when Brian told them the price and explained about their financing options, they acted like he was personally trying to rip them off and cursed at him. And this being a Hummer dealership, there were a fair amount of customers to whom "small talk" meant griping about "the world today" and dropping plenty of racial and homophobic slurs into their rants.

So why was Brian hiding from his day in the bathroom? Because in his mind's eye, he couldn't stop seeing his wife humping her single mattress? The wife who still refused to sleep with him, months after their marriage? Because he could still hear her softly moaning another's name?

 _Toughen up, Brian!_ he told himself, quite severely. _Of course she still thinks about him! What the hell is your problem? You'll never fantasize about any of your old girlfriends again, is that what you're saying? And you got more closure from them than she did from what happened to Peter. Have a little compassion!_

So she still thought about Peter. But the problem was- would she ever think about Brian _like that_ , at all? How long did he have to wait?

How could he compete with a ghost? He had never wanted to compete with his old friend in life, and he certainly didn't want to compete now that Peter was dead.

 _She still loves him. ...Hell,_ _ **I**_ _still love him!_ he added, catching himself. _But…_

 _Of course I'm jealous! Is there room in her heart for me? If not...why am I even doing this? What am I getting out of it?_

This was a dangerous course of thought, indeed, and while the canine sat almost paralyzed by fear of it, he heard somebody else enter the bathroom.

The dog saw the shoes, the pair of legs move past his stall, but the unknown man didn't go into a stall of his own. Instead, he went to the sink; Brian heard the water begin to run, and then a splashing sound. It sounded like the guy might be splashing water on his face. There was a heavy exhalation- a sigh of mingled frustration and relief.

And next, the canine heard, to his surprise, a voice that he recognized start to recite a list of affirmations.

"I am the hero of my own story," said Sean, in a voice of forced determination. "If I can dream it, I can do it."

 _What the hell?_

Brian executed a curious doggy head tilt involuntarily, staring at the closed door in front of him in stupefaction, puzzling over his co-worker, out there on the other side of that door, trying to psyche himself up using cheesy quotes. It was almost unbelievable.

"I am smart, capable, and resourceful, and I have what it takes to be a success," droned Sean.

Brian had actually tried methods like that before, to try and motivate himself and increase his self-confidence. They'd never done any good. It seemed incredible that they would work for Sean, but what seemed even more so was that he'd even need them.

He didn't even think; he just hopped down off his seat, swung the door open and asked,

"Is that the secret to your success?"

Sean's eyes met his in the mirror before the man spun around and they looked each other in the eye properly. Sean looked as though he'd been caught at something extremely shameful. He stood unblinking, unmoving for several seconds, but when he managed his recovery, it appeared to be a full one.

"Haha, you wish! If only it were that easy, huh, Brian? You caught Rumpelstiltskin saying his name, and now you know everything worth knowing."

The slick smile was back on Sean's face, and his self-assured, carefree manner had returned, but Brian was skeptical that there wasn't something more here than met the eye.

"I didn't see legs, Brian," said Sean, quite blandly, but his look was intent. "I did a scan for those, but yours are too short." He turned back around toward the sink and straightened his tie while watching his own reflection. "There's not a little person hiding in the other stall, is there?"

"Uhhhh, not to my knowledge," replied the dog, and knocked on the other stall door to humor his coworker. "Knock, knock!" he sang out sportively, and laughed, a little awkwardly. He opened the door a crack and took a faux-cautious look inside. "Nope. The coast is clear now."

Sean didn't react.

Brian cleared his throat.

"So, uh, hey, we- we haven't gotten to talk much since you came back from vacation. Did you have a nice time?"

"'Nice'?" Sean gaped at him. "'Nice'? Well, no, I can't say that I did." He suddenly broke into a large grin. "It was all about being naughty, my friend!" He laughed riotously, to the point where the canine felt strange for not joining in.

Taking his cell phone out of his pocket, Sean searched through it until he evidently found what he was looking for, and directed Brian to the screen.

"Look, look. You see these two girls? Two totally effing knockouts, wouldn't ya say? They're sisters. Misty and Miranda. ...Or was it Mindy and Maria? It doesn't matter." He waved away his bad memory with one hand and with his other, stabbed a finger enthusiastically at the photo.

The dog was looking at two young women, both dark-haired and buxom and wearing skimpy bikinis. Sean was also in the photo, standing between them, an arm around each of them, looking half-bombed and quite pleased with himself.

"Ahaha, _nice_ ," Brian endorsed, hoping he sounded suitably stoked. In actuality, he was mildly annoyed by Sean's attitude and the picture. Of course, he wasn't going to celebrate too much in the man's honor. They simply weren't friends like that, but what was this prickle of negative emotion he was feeling? Was he...jealous or something? That was unthinkable. They were gorgeous young women, but…

"So, you hooked up with both of them?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Sean scoffed laughingly. "Oh, and there were plenty of other hot little mamas, I assure you." He grinned an oily grin, and Brian just chuckled some more and literally patted him on the back, since the dog's mouth was dry, and he didn't seem to be able to do it verbally.

"You shouldn't show these kinds of things to a married man," he found himself scolding playfully, even as he wondered just what the hell he was talking about. Because it would provoke too much envy? But Brian _didn't_ envy Sean! He just couldn't. Maybe he envied his sales record, but Brian's single days were just recently behind him, and he remembered them as miserable, nothing to mourn the loss of.

And Lois was _easily_ these women's equal in beauty. At least. And he loved her. And-

"You're right, I'm cruel," chortled Sean, in his smug element. "I mean, these women I was talking about? They were getting _wild_! Good luck getting a _wife_ to do any of that stuff, Griffin, before long it'll be all rollin' the flannel nightgown up, under the covers, in the dark, 'Hurry up and get it over with, honey!'" He pitched his voice up into a grotesque imitation of a woman's.

That showed what Sean knew. Lois wasn't sleeping with Brian _at all_.

The canine groaned internally. Damnit, it _was_ a sex thing!

He was going to work at not concentrating on his sexual frustration, and now it was even bothering him subconsciously. Hell, he was jealous Baron Von Itchington out there, because even with his unmemorable persona and constantly scratching hands, he had a wife who called _him_ , who gave him "sexual healing".

...Of course, he couldn't know that last part for a fact. Maybe he just _needed_ sexual healing...in addition to another type of healing, clearly.

"I don't see that happening to us," Brian told Sean, trying to sound as assured as he could, which wasn't difficult. If Lois ever did sex him up, he'd be so grateful that he'd see no right to complain if it did turn out to be old married sex. He'd gladly take that, right now.

"Nobody ever does," said Sean ominously, and as if by mutual agreement, the two of them started moving out of the restroom. He hesitated, then raked his fingers through his head of blond hair and said in a voice that sounded a little too deliberately nonchalant, "You know, my ex recently went on vacation, too. Yeah. Aspen. Friend of a friend told me. He thinks she's going to marry her ski instructor."

He scoffed loudly. "Some people, huh? Well, hey, man, he's welcome to her!" Now, his laugh was peculiarly forceful. "If he likes the cold so much, maybe he can actually tolerate her frigid nature!"

Again, Brian joined in the laughter just because he would've felt too weird not laughing, and then the two salesmen looked around, eager to be out of each other's company. They were back out on the sales floor. Brian could see his desk from where he stood, and Mr. B., unfortunately, still sitting on the other side of it.

 _Idiot! You shouldn't hope that your customer left without buying anything!_

Sean saw where the dog's eyes had gone, and pointed out, "You've been with that guy for a while, haven't you? Taking a long time to seal the deal?"

Brian shrugged, bugged. "Maybe a little bit, but that's alright. It's, uh, it's the thrill of the anticipation, right?" Oh, hell, and now he was thinking about his accidentally celibate state again! Thrill of anticipation, indeed! Not there. Now the lead-up had just become agonizing.

Enough building toward the climax. ….So to speak.

Back to the distinctly unsexy world of Hummer sales. Sean didn't even need to call the canine's bluff. He just shook his head and clasped Brian on the shoulder.

"Let me do you a solid," the man muttered, and before the dog could respond, Sean strode away at a fast pace- in the direction of Brian's client. As Brian was left dumbfounded in his wake, Paddy's nephew sidled on up to Mr. B. and started chatting with him.

As the full implications of the situation dawned on the dog, Brian burned with anger.

 _What the hell?!_

All that time spent with that lackluster, indecisive, itchy moron, just for Sean to swoop in at the last moment like some kind of vulture and take the spoils from the kill Brian had worked so hard for?! Sure, Sean was a blowhard who could be pretty irritating, but the dog had always considered him to be basically alright.

"You bastard!" Brian hissed under his breath, clenching his fists. The rest of the dealership seemed oblivious to the goings on of the dog and that _thief_ Sean. Didn't Mr. Top Salesman enjoy enough success? Brian knew he should be doing something about this, but he'd been so surprised, and Sean was such a smooth operator, that by the time the canine had taken one indignant step forward, Mr. B. was signing something on a clipboard.

Brian hurried forward, and reached the men as Sean was handing the new Hummer owner his keys.

Mr. B. promptly used them to scratch the back of his hand.

"Enjoy your new vehicle, Mr. Brewer!" Sean told him, all goodwill and well wishes. "She's a beaut!" The blond man grinned a big, shiteating grin, and Mr. B.- for Brewer, apparently- departed.

Brian leveled Sean with the harshest glare in his power, and opened his mouth, about to let him have it.

But Sean started talking first.

"You just need some more practice, Brian- "

"Oh, like that's an excuse?!" Brian barked out, incredulous.

"An excuse? Just some advice," said Sean, looking fairly perplexed, though his smile was sanguine.

"Oh, okay!" the dog exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air and chuckling with acid in his voice. "That's what you're going to do, huh? Royally screw me over and then try to tell me you were just teaching me a lesson? Well, the only thing I've learned is you're a- "

Sean raised his voice to talk over him. "I'm gonna stop you there before you say something you'll regret." His eyes hooded themselves in resentment as the man thrust the clipboard at Brian. "Who does it say closed the sale?"

"Oh, sure! Rub it in! Do you play dirty tricks like this all the time? No wonder you're top salesman." The canine's eyes scanned the form, barely seeing, much less comprehending what he was reading, half blinded as he was by outrage. "You phony piece of work, you…" The rest of the condemnation died on his lips as he finally read something he could understand. His own name.

Mentioned as the seller of the vehicle.

"Oh…" Brian mumbled dully. He shuffled on his feet uneasily. He looked slowly up at Sean, who was frowning back at him, although perhaps not as severely as he deserved.

"Looks like my phony tactics got you your commission," the man said evenly, before turning to walk away. "I told you I'd do you a solid."

* * *

 _I can't get no satisfaction._

 _I can't get no satisfaction._

' _Cause I try and I try and I try and I try._

 _I can't get no. I can't get no._

The canine pulled into the driveway and groaned before slamming off the radio, taking a second to lean back in his seat and release a long sigh. After pulling himself together, he finally sat up and killed the engine of his car before exiting it. As he was making his way across the front lawn, he couldn't help but notice Stewie outside sitting on the ground and playing with Rupert. The boy's eyes met his, and his attention was immediately refocused as he smiled and stood up.

"Hey, Brian!"

The dog stopped and turned to greet the infant who was quickly walking toward him.

"Oh! Uh, hey, Stewie."

The baby's smile grew as he came to stand beside the dog.

"What's up? How was your day?"

Brian shrugged.

"It was just another day. What about you? What have you been up to?"

The child shrugged, as well.

"Oh, you know, same old, same old. I don't really pay attention at preschool. I just kind of do things my way, Stewie's way."

The boy pointed back at himself with his thumb, looking quite proud. Brian couldn't help but chuckle.

"Ah. Well, that is the best way."

Stewie nodded in complete agreement.

"You're damn right!"

And the confident remark came paired with a just as confident smirk that earned one extra laugh from Brian.

"Don't get too cocky, now."

The infant shrugged.

"Who? Me? Don't be silly. Even though I do have every right to be, I'm well aware that cockiness is far from attractive."

Brian rolled his eyes, amused.

"Attractive? And why should that be a concern of yours?"

The boy looked like he was about to answer, but no words came. Sensing an awkwardness brewing in the air, Brian decided to change the subject.

"So, anyway, I'm going to head inside. You coming in? Gonna grab Rupert?"

The baby turned to look at the bear still sitting in the grass.

"Oh...yeah. Go on ahead. We'll be right behind you."

The dog nodded his head and turned towards the house. As soon as he entered, he called out to his wife.

"Honey, I'm home!"

No response came. He scratched his head, confused.

"Lois?"

He set down his briefcase and made his way into the kitchen. Sure enough, Lois was in there, standing over a large pot on the stove. The canine tapped his knuckles against the doorframe to get her attention.

"Knock. Knock."

The woman turned to look at him, and smiled slightly.

"Oh, hey, Brian."

The dog began walking towards her.

"Did you not hear me come in? I called out to you."

The woman turned back towards the stove.

"No, I must not have been able to hear over the fan."

She pointed up to the hood of the oven before grabbing a spoon and stirring whatever contents were in the pot. Brian hummed, acknowledging her point and deciding to drop it.

"So, how was your day, sweetie?"

The woman stopped stirring and turned the heat down before placing a lid over the pot.

"To be honest with you, it's been kind of stressful."

Brian frowned at this.

"Stressful? How so?"

Lois just shook her head.

"Oh. It's just the usual, Brian. I didn't really wake up in the best mood, and Stewie wanted to give me trouble as we were getting ready. So, I snapped at him and felt bad about that, and it only made things worse because he got more fussy so it was a pain getting him to preschool this morning. Then, I had a bunch of errands to run, had to run to the bank and do some shopping. Traffic was a nightmare."

She stopped and waved her hand.

"It was just one of those days. It'll be alright."

This didn't satisfy Brian, though. He could tell that his love was stressed. And, at that realization, an idea popped in his head, and he smiled.

"Here. Let me help you relax."

He quickly grabbed a chair and pulled it up behind the woman before climbing up to stand on it. Lois turned her head to look back at him.

"What are you doing, Brian?"

The dog decided to show rather than tell as he reached up and began massaging her shoulders. He could feel her tense up even more at his touch, but Brian figured it was just the shock of being touched so suddenly. She'd loosen up soon. He was sure of it. He cleared his throat and continued.

"That, uh, that feel good?"

The woman didn't answer, instead simply turning back towards the stove and the food she was preparing. After a few moments, Brian was saddened to find that she was as tense as ever.

 _Man, she must be under some serious stress._

The canine persisted, strengthening his efforts as he leaned in to whisper into his wife's ear.

"Come on, baby. Let me take care of you."

In the next instant, the woman was shrugging her shoulders, trying to loosen his grip.

"That...that isn't necessary, Brian, but thank you…"

The dog hesitated a moment before continuing, squeezing her shoulders firmly.

"Lois, I'm just trying to help. I mean, I'm your hus-"

"I said that's enough!"

She shouted out as she yanked her shoulders free.

The canine jumped and took a step back almost losing his balance but quickly regaining it. There was silence as the room grew cold, the woman devoting all her attention to her cooking. The dog reached out towards her but didn't dare make contact.

"L-Lois, I'm…"

She just continued ignoring him, and Brian, despite wanting to remedy the situation, knew he should just walk away. He could barely handle the tension, anyway.

"I'll… I'll just go."

He turned to hop off the chair and saw Stewie standing in the doorway and holding Rupert, staring at him and his mother. The dog's eyes grew wide, immediately concerned with how what had happened must have appeared to the child. He jumped down to the floor and began walking towards the boy, but Stewie was quick to turn and speed away. Feeling compelled to set the record straight, Brian jogged after him as silently as he could, not wanting Lois to hear and get involved. For someone with such small legs, the kid could really move. He was up the stairs in a flash, and by the time Brian had reached them he could clearly hear the sound of a door being slammed upstairs. The canine rushed up the stairs and went to open the door, but was surprised to find it locked.

 _Since when is there a lock on this door?_

He knocked on the door.

"Stewie? I know you're in there."

He jiggled the knob.

"Come on. Open up. I know you saw me and your mother."

The door remained locked and the canine groaned in frustration.

"Steeeeeewiiiiiie… Open the door. Let me in. Let me explain."

He waited a moment longer and was about to turn to walk away when he heard the door slowly opening. The child peaked his head out, eyebrow quirked in apparent confusion.

"Explain what?"

Brian took a breath before motioning toward the door.

"Are you going to let me in?"

The infant appeared to consider the question for a moment before finally opening the door all the way and motioning for the dog to come inside.

"Fine. I don't know why you feel the need to talk to me so bad, but whatever, come say whatever it is you want to say."

The dog hurried inside and shut the door before following the child over to his little plastic table in the corner. They both had a seat, and there was silence for only a brief moment before Brian began speaking.

"Sooooo… What exactly did you see, Stewie?"

The baby rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

"Why do you care? It's your relationship. I have no say in anything. What I think doesn't matter."

Brian frowned at this.

"I just know that...things have been pretty good with you for a while, and I don't want this to cause you to be upset again. I remember how things were, at first…"

The boy sighed.

"I wasn't far behind you, Brian. I told you I'd be right in. I saw everything starting with Lois complaining about how oh so bad her day was. Oh, do I make her life difficult? Well, boo-fucking-hoo. She already gets more respect than she deserves. She's not getting any from me."

He folded his arms and huffed before continuing.

"So, yeah, I gave her a hard time this morning. She gives me a hard time EVERY morning, but she's my mother so that makes me a 'bad boy'."

He emphasized the last bit with air quotations before scoffing and sitting up to meet Brian's gaze.

"I just make her life so hard. So, what? Are you going to assert your role as man of the house and punish me for disrespecting her? Go on. Just try it. Punish little baby Stewie."

Brian's eyes went wide as he started waving his arms and shaking his head aggressively.

"What?! No! No! No! I didn't come up here to punish you!"

Hoping that was enough to defuse the situation, the dog made sure to make one other point.

"I mean, you should treat your mother better, but I'll let it slide this time. I'm just worried you saw what happened between us and are going to go back to your initial attitude regarding us."

The infant shook his head and placed his arms on the table.

"Well, if that's all that concerns you then you have nothing to worry about."

Brian wanted to believe the kid, but he wasn't exactly convinced.

"What… What did you think about what you saw, Stewie? Why did you run away? Was it just because you were scared I was going to punish you?"

The baby lifted his finger and wagged it at the dog.

"First of all, while I wasn't sure what your response to hearing about my behavior this morning would be, I wasn't _scared_ of anything. Don't flatter yourself. It was simply an uncomfortable thing to witness. It was awkward, Brian, and when I saw you notice me and realized that you were going to try and talk to me about it, I left to avoid the very conversation we're having now. Like I said, what goes on in your relationship is none of my business. However, since you asked, I will say that what I witnessed seemed to me to be further proof of my opinions of your marriage from the start. Let's make that clear, my feelings regarding this union between you and that vile woman never changed. I simply adapted and acknowledged there was nothing I could do to change things. So, there was no point in making such a big deal out of something beyond my control. That's it. That's why you have nothing to worry about. What happened in the kitchen means nothing to me. You can rest easy tonight."

The canine blinked his eyes, a little stunned as he took a second to process everything the child had said. Stewie made his point well. He couldn't argue against that, so his response should have been completely satisfactory. But, something still wasn't quite sitting right with Brian. Maybe it was just how nonchalant the boy was acting about the whole thing. Could Stewie appearing to not care so much be a cause for concern? Maybe he should do some research later. Even still, at the moment, the canine could find no objection to make. He still wished that Stewie had at least a little faith in his marriage, but that was only something that could happen with time. He knew there was nothing he could say to change that opinion. He wasn't going down that road again, especially if Stewie was indeed ok. Why rock the boat? After thinking things over for a moment more, he nodded his head and finally replied.

"Ok. If you say you're alright, I believe you."

Stewie smiled slightly.

"I appreciate that."

Brian smiled back before standing up.

"I'll get out of your hair, then. Dinner should be ready soon, so don't get too preoccupied.

The baby seemed to glare at him for a brief moment before finally nodding.

"Right. Dinner. I'll be down. Just let me know when it's ready."

And with that the child also stood up and began walking toward his toybox. With nothing left to say, Brian turned to leave but stopped when he heard Stewie again.

"At least all of this drama distracted you from your usual routine…"

At hearing this, Brian turned on his heel to face the infant once more.

"What did you say?"

Stewie stood there by his toybox with wide eyes, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Oh… You heard that?"

The canine nodded his head and folded his arms.

"I did. And, what did you mean by that? What do you think is my 'usual routine'?"

The baby rubbed his arm nervously, and Brian was pretty sure he heard him gulp.

"Oh, well, I guess it's not exactly a whole routine, but usually when you come in from work you, uh, you know...give me a kiss… But, I was just saying that I was lucky that I didn't have to deal with that today. I mean, why would I want to be kissed by some mutt?"

The child chuckled awkwardly, and for a minute, Brian just stared at him, not sure how to react before finally settling on a smirk.

"Oh, you know what? You're completely right. How could I forget?"

He walked over towards the boy slowly, savoring this moment where he could tease his little buddy. Stewie took a step back and held out his arms in protest.

"H-Hey now! I just told you I _didn't_ want that! Don't come any closer!"

Brian laughed and grabbed the infant's arms, moving them aside before leaning in and giving him a prolonged peck on the cheek. When he finally pulled away and released the boy's arms, he laughed again as he watched the toddler make a face in disgust and proceed to wipe his cheek frantically. The dog shook his head in amusement and, then, reached over to ruffle the baby's hair playfully.

"You can be a pretty cute kid sometimes."

Stewie rolled his eyes and turned his back to him as he began rummaging around in his toybox. Brian took that as his cue to leave. He turned back towards the door and proceeded out of the room with a big smile on his face, leaving Stewie to do whatever it was he did when he was alone.

* * *

Brian took a seat at the table just before Lois lowered a bowl of chili in front of him, her eyes cast away from him. Brian stared at her back as she retreated to her own seat. Chris was sitting in between them, and the dog couldn't decide if he was disappointed or relieved.

There would be no chance for a hand squeeze or quiet, private word to smoothe over the tension that had arisen earlier, but at the same time, sitting there almost shoulder to shoulder might be almost as awkward right now. It was that "touch me not" aura that Lois put up around herself, much to her husband's consternation. Every little moment that they'd had like this since their marriage, moments when Lois would grow distant, snapping at him or turning cold when he attempted to increase their intimacy, had been a moment that would pass. Take its time to make Brian feel bad, and then, before you knew it, they would be back to friendly terms.

But only friendly. They got passed their moments of friction, but things never got better. Brian was patient. Brian was kind. But he didn't know what to say to his wife, didn't know what to do for her, that would make her more comfortable receiving physical affection from him.

So maybe it was for the best that she stay over there.

"Brian?" Her voice broke into his unpleasant thoughts. It was sweet-toned. He looked over at her, and she looked almost...conciliatory. "Are you alright? You should eat your chili while it's still hot."

The canine blinked down at his bowlful of food. It did look good. His eyes did a quick survey around the table. It was by all appearances an average family dinner. Brian had to act normal, too. Two out of the three kids knew nothing about his and Lois's...lack of marital harmony earlier. And, as Stewie had pointed out, his opinion was what it had always been, so what the baby might be thinking really didn't matter right now. But when it came to Chris and Meg, better not to call attention to the wrong things.

Brian turned back to his chili, topped with cheese and sour cream and looking delicious.

He took a bite.

It was not.

It was the most impossibly bland chili he'd ever eaten.

Nevertheless, a compliment to the chef was on the tip of his tongue when Chris started speaking.

"So, guess what, Mom, Brian?" he excitably croaked out.

"What is it, sweetie?" asked Lois.

"Yeah, tell us all about it, sport," Brian chimed in cheerfully.

"I was delivering the paper to old Mr. Herbert this morning, and he was waiting for me out by the sidewalk…"

"Oh, boy, here we go…" Stewie muttered an interruption.

"And he said he had a special job for me!"

"I bet he did," said the infant.

"Well, he didn't say it exactly like that," Chris informed them all. "But he was talking about all the work he needs to have done around the house, and how he'd be willing to pay a pretty penny to any strapping young man who could help him with his chores. And after I found out that he wasn't really offering only a penny to do all that work, I said I'd take the job!"

Brian was impressed by the initiative his eldest stepson had shown in being interested in such a big responsibility, even if he was somewhat wary, too.

"Wow, are you sure you're ready for a job like that, Chris?"

"Did you really think he was only going to pay you one cent?" asked Stewie, eyes half-lidded, voice monotone.

Chris chose to answer his baby brother first, while Lois looked confused and Meg stared into her chili.

"Actually, at first," he started, his demeanor apparently embarrassed, self-consciously twiddling chubby thumbs out in front of himself, "I thought he might mean a girl named Penny." He laughed. "That would be _sweet_! But Mr. Herbert was horrified by the very thought." The teen's eyes went wide.

"Hmmm," Stewie hummed, half-interestedly. "I've always liked the name Penelope."

"But, yeah, no sweat, Brian," Chris said confidently, turning toward the dog. "I got this. I promise. I'm eager to get started, because I wanna earn money for a new bike! I saw this one bike, in a window downtown, my friends all think it's totally kickass, too, with flames on it, and- "

"Oh, my god, who the hell cares?!" Meg suddenly spoke out, her spoon clattering against her chili bowl. "Are we _really_ going to talk about you getting a new bike? You already _have_ a bike! But bikes are lame, anyway. I can drive a car! I have a license! And there's a car sitting rusting in the driveway, doing nobody any good, when _I_ could be driving it!" She threw her hands up in the air as she ranted, and leaned across the table, a challenge in her eyes as she stared at her mother.

Lois exhaled loud and long. "Again with this?" She had clearly been made irritable already by her daughter bringing up this subject. Brian recalled that he'd gone over the car issue with his wife once, very briefly, after Meg first voiced her request. After getting a little snippy at her daughter, Lois had seemed mostly disinterested in the issue when speaking to Brian, only saying that she'd think about Meg having her own car, but that Peter's old one would have to be inspected first. The dog had deferred to her, and now, he was surprised to hear the anger in her tone.

"C'mon, Meg, get off my case!" the woman said. "You've been harassing me for months about this now. And after our last conversation, I thought you understood- "

Brian interrupted. "Last conversation?" He didn't even know that Meg had continued to ask her mom for the car. "Should I have maybe been a part of that?"

The force of Lois's sudden glare took him aback. "No," she said shortly, before addressing Meg again.

"It's summertime, you're going to be joyriding around in that thing, and we talked about the gas and the maintenance- "

"I didn't know she wanted it that badly," the canine mentioned. "If she's been asking for it ever since- "

Everybody seemed to be having trouble getting a complete thought out. Lois gave a coarse laugh.

"So she's been asking for it. You clearly don't know much about being a parent, Brian, they'll bug the crap out of ya for any little thing, and- "

Brian sat, wounded, while Meg argued, "I wouldn't joyride in it! I don't even have any friends to joyride _with_! There's this big, blowout BBQ party next weekend that practically every kid at school got invited to, but not me! I just want to have _one_ cool thing about me! I want to have a car! Dad's car's not even cool, so if you're worried about it being a gas-guzzling boat that's not safe enough, why don't we sell it, and then we can put the money toward a new car- "

"THAT IS YOUR FATHER'S CAR!" Lois roared, actually standing from the table, banging her fists down on it and shaking their dishes. The entire family then fell silent. Brian could hear Lois breathing heavily. For the canine, it was like his wife had just been yelling in Spanish. A half-remembered language he'd learned the basics of in younger years. Now, his knowledge of it was definitely fuzzy, and while he felt like he _should_ be able to figure out Lois's words, their larger meaning was lost on him, and he was left sitting there in stupefaction.

She seemed rather self-conscious now, his lovely wife. She was rubbing her arm in what looked like an embarrassed, unconscious movement, and then she looked at Brian with guilt written all over her face. Brian opened up his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Lois waited for him for a couple of moments, then sat primly back down, clearing her throat.

"How does everyone like their chili?" she asked amiably.

Brian's brain finally found itself able to string together the words that his still-open mouth was ready to let out. Unfortunately, they were these:

"I wish it was a little spicier."

He could have slapped himself, but the kids, who evidently didn't care about returning the dinner to a civil mood, all nodded in unison and muttered their agreement. If Lois had been determined, a minute ago, to be more sensitive toward Brian, that desire must have vanished.

"Oh. I'm so sorry, honey," said Lois tonelessly. "I thought that spicy foods were bad for dogs." She stood up again, and this time, quickly left the room.

"She's a fucking liar," Stewie informed the remaining diners. "She always makes this bland shit."

Brian aimed a reproving gaze at him, which the baby responded to with perfect equanimity. He swung his feet, carefree, out in front of his highchair, and hummed cheerfully.

"Aren't we a happy, happy family?"

* * *

Irregardless of anybody's happiness, they all gathered in the living room to watch T.V. after dinner like many a night. Brian and Lois even held hands. Well, Brian had followed her onto the couch, snagging a seat beside her, and gotten up the nerve, after a few minutes, to grab her hand. She hadn't fought it.

It was sitcom night on the channel they'd chosen, which was good for some mild laughs. The shows were kind of lame, but they were easy to watch while digesting dinner, and quite possibly no one wanted to have to concentrate very much on a show right now.

The dog gave only half his attention as a couple of mindless half hour comedies rolled past. Most of the rest of his attention was with the limp handhold he was sharing with his wife. He would've brooded more on that, however, if he wasn't already exhausted from the day, and so he let the remaining portion of his brain rest, focusing on nothing in particular at all.

He began to zone out a little less when a sitcom he'd never seen before came on and was actually sort of charming. The main characters were a young couple just starting out in marriage. The two actors had great chemistry together. They really sold that their characters were in love. What's more, the writing on the show was pretty strong, making the various relationships shine, while also being rather funny at times. The canine genuinely chuckled a few times.

The basis of the episode was really simple, seeing the wife trying to impress her husband by entering a baking contest, only to worry that she was outclassed by the competition. In addition, the fact that she'd made it to the final stage in the competition was meant to be a surprise to him, so she had to devise a way to lure him to the spot without letting him know what was going on. Unfortunately, the husband thought she was trying to hint that he should help out his friend with a crazy business scheme, since that friend happened to be showcasing his goods at a business fair going on at the same venue as the baking contest.

Brian couldn't help but regard it as an old fashioned type of show, but he was okay with that. He liked lots of old fashioned things, after all. He found himself invested in the episode's resolution, hoping the husband would make it across the hall to the room his wife was in so he could see her up on stage. When the husband character- let's face it, inevitably- wound up in the right place at the right time, Brian actually hissed out, "Yesss!" and pumped his fist in the air.

It wasn't until he settled down that he realized he was no longer holding Lois's hand. And her hands were now folded in her lap.

The episode's tag had the happy couple back at home. The young wife had only taken honorable mention in the contest, but the husband assured her, "I'd rather have your muffins than anyone else's." The live studio audience _oooo'_ d suggestively, despite the cheesy joke, and then, as the episode closed out, the dog briefly questioned his opinion about the show being old fashioned, when the main couple shared a surprisingly sultry kiss, arms locked around each other in a full-body embrace.

"Hmph," Lois muttered. "Either those are two of the best actors on T.V. today, or their real-life spouses better be worried."

"Well, I don't know about the girl," Stewie chimed in. "But Rowan Perkins isn't married. ...Not that I follow his personal life or anything, of course. Or his early career, modeling underwear."

Brian sighed deeply, watching disinterestedly as a series of commercials played across the screen. He even missed the opening of the next show, because he was still back there with the previous one. It had given him a warm feeling in his heart, but kind of an empty feeling in his gut. Considering the food he'd just had had been all but flavorless, but had still been food that he'd eaten, he couldn't chalk the feelings up to heartburn and hunger. He was left pining, because of a stupid sitcom relationship. He was envious of a stupid sitcom romance.

How that fictional couple had appeared to love each other… And _want_ each other…

On the television screen, a family was eating at McBurgertown, and Brian was reminded of his wedding reception. He recalled the blissful feelings of that day. It hadn't been the most elegant dinner, but he'd been filled with hope that day, for a happy future with his dream woman.

Driving back to the house afterward, with his new bride by his side in the passenger seat...and the rest of the family in the back...tin cans rattling against the road from where they were tied on the back bumper...it was all Brian could do to keep himself under control. Quite frankly, it had been embarrassing. He felt like whenever somebody looked at him, they'd be able to tell he was aroused. He did all he could to keep his thoughts under regulation and keep _that part_ of his anatomy from giving away where his mind was at, but still. He'd felt like it'd shown all over his face. The wedding was over. He liked to think that she was now Mrs. Griffin not because of Peter, but because of _him_. That logic might be a little murky, but the fact remained. They were married. The next event he had to look forward to was the wedding night.

Boy, that had turned out...not as he had hoped.

A thumping bass and flashing red lights brought Brian's mind back to the present, and his eyes back to the T.V. He felt those eyes widen at the sight of a beautiful woman, rolling around on a bed in her lingerie. Her hair was tousled, and the camera zoomed in on the ample cleavage her bra was boosting up. The bass sounds came from the background music, a type of club track that went along with the bright flashes of pulsing light. The sound of feminine moaning was heard at one point over said music, and the camera panned over the curve of the woman's ass next, it rising up from the mattress as she lay on her stomach, a pretty little hill Brian would love to...plant his flag on top of.

The commercial actress flashed a naughty, toothy grin at the camera, and the logo for the lingerie store came on, signaling the end of the ad. The dog snapped out of the apparent trance he'd been in, and cleared his throat self-consciously. He looked around at the family. Chris was sitting slack-jawed.

"That. Was. HOT!" the teen shouted, when he'd picked his jaw up off the floor, while Lois tutted in disapproval.

"I swear, some of the stuff they put on T.V. these days might as well be straight-up porn."

The canine thought his wife seemed a little agitated.

"Not to mention they present an unrealistic body image," Meg put forth, to which her mother scoffed.

"Do you even _try_ , Meg? How do you know it's unrealistic?"

"I thought it was quite saucy!" Stewie chirped, and the dog turned to look at the toddler, who was seated on the floor near to the couch, staring up at his stepfather and smirking. "Break me...break me off a piece of that!" he added, pretty unconvincingly. "I think Pop liked that one." The smirk grew. "Didn't you, _Pop_?"

Brian didn't reply. His wife was sitting so close to him. So close, and yet so far. He suddenly realized he could smell her perfume, and it was intoxicating. The dog felt a familiar tension below his waist. He started to bounce his knee nervously. His body felt like it was buzzing. He peered at Lois out of the corner of his eye, and knew it was an electricity she didn't feel. It was beyond awkward to be sitting next to her like this, right now. He was starting to get flop sweat. Meanwhile, what _wasn't_ floppy was… Well, things were starting to get hard for him.

He didn't know what to do. Waiting it out didn't seem to be an option. The canine couldn't remember the last time he felt this desperate. He fidgeted, frantic to do something, say something…

"I'll be in the basement!" he declared, hearing the words come out in almost a yelp, and practically vaulting up out of his seat. He didn't look back at any of them as he fled the room. He closed the door behind him before rushing down the stairs and having a seat on the old couch that had been down there for who knows how long, taking a moment to sigh in relief as he finally let himself go. His cock slipped out of his sheath, and he was fully erect in no time.

 _Jesus Christ…_

He reached out to touch himself, moaning before his paw ever even made contact and then hissing as he wrapped his fingers around the shaft. It was so sensitive and hard and throbbing. He couldn't remember the last time he was this fucking horny. How long had it been since he'd had sex? Months? Fuck! He hadn't had sex in months! And during all that time, he'd kept himself from masturbating because he was so sure that he'd be getting some from Lois soon. Well, he couldn't hold back any longer.

 _God, I just need to cum!_

He started moving his paw up and down his length, barely able to stand the intense sensation it caused to course through his body. He shivered and closed his eyes, breathing heavily as an image of Lois appeared to him. It wasn't like he had ever seen her, though. No, she was wearing some incredibly sexy black lingerie that Brian had seen in the closet, time and time again. Oh, how he yearned for her to wear that lingerie for him…

 _Dammit!_

He fell to his back and started bucking his hips up against his own grip frantically as he pictured her sitting between his legs, smiling up at him saucily as she jerked him good.

"Mmmmm. Yeah, baby, jack that cock. You want this cock, don't you?"

She nodded.

" _Oh, yesssssss, honey. I want your BIG dick inside me so bad."_

The dog chuckled.

"Good. Because you're gonna get it. Put it in your mouth."

She did.

And that's all it took.

"Fuuuuuuuck!"

The canine began convulsing as he came hard, shooting several ropes of hot, sticky cum up into the air. It landed everywhere from the floor to the couch to the nearby wall to on him, and the entire time, all he saw was white as he struggled to catch his breath. When his orgasm finally started to subside, he found that he was completely exhausted, much more exhausted than he should have been for cumming so quickly. He laid there, paw still firmly around his softening wood as he panted for breath. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and observed the mess he had made all over the area, including himself.

 _Shit…_

He had no idea how he was going to clean this up without anyone finding out.

"Brian?!"

The dog shot up into a sitting position as he looked over to see Lois standing halfway up the steps. His jaw dropped as he struggled for something to say, for the words to explain, but he knew there was no explaining. The evidence was pretty much everywhere.

"L-Lois…"

The woman's eyes were wide, and she ran back to shut the door behind her before turning back to address the canine in a harsh whisper.

"What the hell are you doing?! What if one of the kids had come down to check on you instead of me?!"

Brian looked down at the floor, feeling guilty.

"I-I didn't think about that…"

Lois folded her arms over her chest and glared at him.

"Well, obviously. Look at you! At this mess! Jesus, Brian!"

The dog didn't say anything, just continued to hang his head. The woman sighed.

"I'll...I'll bring you a wet cloth. Wait down here."

With that, she left, leaving Brian alone to get lost in his thoughts as he sat in the evidence of his passion. He felt dirty, and not just because he actually was pretty dirty now...and sticky, but also because Lois had a point. He had been so focused on getting off that he hadn't considered the possibility of anyone coming down while he pleasured himself. For God's sake, there was a lock on the basement door! There was just no excuse!

 _Nice, Brian… You're such a great role model…_

...He'd have to remember to lock it next time.

Lois was back with a cloth fairly quickly. She walked down the stairs and tossed it to him, turning to look away as Brian began cleaning himself. Having her do that only served to intensify the dog's own shame. He tried to clean up quickly but he lacked the energy to do that, so it took some time. All the while, his wife stood there, tapping her foot impatiently with her arms crossed, so obviously disgusted and displeased. It broke his heart…

"I'm...sorry."

Lois didn't answer for a while, but after a few seconds she replied.

"Are you going to be doing this often?"

Brian didn't know how to respond to that as he finished wiping up the last of the semen that he could from his fur. He reached back to wipe away a strand that had landed on the wall as he thought about it. He was pretty sure he would be down here from time to time, from now on. At least for a good while because he if had been getting close to some kind of intimacy from Lois then he'd just set himself way back, after this incident. She didn't even want to look at him… He sighed but it almost came out as a whimper, the kind of sound any other dog would probably make if they had done wrong and been caught.

"I...I'm going to need to be alone down here sometimes…"

Once again, Lois didn't say anything, didn't even make a sound as he set to work trying his best to clean up the couch and make it presentable. He had told the truth. He couldn't wait for her, anymore. If he needed to...release some tension, then that's what he had to do. He couldn't put himself in the state he had just been in again. It was torture.

"Well, from now on, make sure you lock the door. I'll make sure that nobody interrupts you. You also have to...make sure you can get rid of the evidence."

He saw her shiver slightly before continuing.

"You're better than this. You're not just any other animal, so don't fucking act like it. It's sad."

Brian nodded his head, agreeing with her. He wasn't going to argue against that point. He was quite disappointed in himself. This whole situation was downright depressing. He got down and started cleaning the floor.

"I know. I just...couldn't take it anymore. I won't let myself get to that point again. I'm sorry you had to see it. I'm sorry I disappointed you."

He finished and stood up, holding the soiled rag. Lois must have sensed that he was done because she turned around and looked at him with an expression mixed in anger and what Brian read as...pity.

"I'm going to go make sure everyone is getting settled for the night. Put on a load of laundry and...put that in with it."

And without waiting for him to respond, she hurried back up the stairs and out of the basement. Brian went to move but found that he couldn't. He was frozen in place, still trying to fully comprehend what had happened in the last few minutes. It felt like so much longer than that.

 _Way to go, Brian…_

He felt moisture in his eyes starting to build up but gritted his teeth against it, shaking his head and wiping the unshed tears away.

"No."

He wasn't going to just stand here and feel sorry for himself. He'd done what he'd done. Nothing could take it back. He could only do better in the future. He needed to get moving, get this laundry going so that he could get back upstairs and into bed.

 _Into bed...next to Lois._

He gulped, nervousness rattling through him. He didn't think he could bear to see her again, right now, and as he finally started moving over toward the basket of dirty laundry that was sitting by the washing machine he had the vague idea that he might just be better off sleeping on the couch tonight.


	6. Chapter 5: I'll Be in the Basement I

**Chapter 5: "I'll Be in the Basement.": The Discovery**

Something was up with the dog.

His stepfather seemed different, somehow, a change Stewie dated back through the past few weeks. While there had always been a hint of melancholia hanging about Brian, as he swirled and sipped his martinis and talked about the missed opportunities in his life, that characterization of him had been missing ever since he got together with the red-headed devil woman. His marriage had made him- well, not walk on clouds, but it had seemingly improved his good cheer and optimism greatly. He was a dog full of hope.

But now, he seemed ground down by the wheel of life, like so many canines who hadn't watched out for speeding cars. Stewie eventually realized that what he'd feared had come to pass: Brian was becoming disillusioned with his marriage. He was beginning to doubt his match with Lois.

This was...this _was_ what he, Stewie, had feared, wasn't it? How extraordinary. He'd always known that Brian wedding that harpy was a bad idea, and he'd...he'd wanted to spare the dog's feelings, hadn't he? It wasn't just about not wanting to have to deal with this fractured, fucked up family falling even more to hell as this ill-advised union soured. He'd always wanted Brian to get out before it was too late and avoid greater pain.

Yes, Stewie had confessed to caring about Brian, but it was still a continual source of somewhat sorrowful amazement, as the baby watched that horrible shrew fail to gravitate toward Brian like she had the fat fool she'd been married to previously. As he watched Brian walk around as lovelorn as before. He sincerely felt sympathy for the mutt, he honestly did.

And if there was something else the child felt...something beyond being sorry for Brian that the relationship was crashing and burning…

If, mixed in there, there was a pleasant-feeling emotion, too, it was only satisfaction at having predicted something successfully. Stewie wasn't going to feel too guilty about that, considering. Granted, you didn't have to have 20/20 vision and a high-powered telescope to see this marriage's future coming from a million miles away.

Another thing that started to happen, though, was Brian throwing himself into his stepdoggy role full-force. He might be despairing about his relationship with his wife, and he might come home from the dealership looking like he'd just spent time in Guantánamo, but he'd evidently decided he was going to cover it up as best he could for the kids.

Poor dear.

It might deceive the others, but ole Stewie was smart, and he'd caught wise. Maybe, if he was kinder, he would've let the dog get on with life while playing dumb himself. Once, though, the toddler had been so annoyed by Brian insisting on "supervising" Stewie brushing his teeth (a task that mutt knew full well a baby of superior intellect could handle on his own!), that the boy had burst out with:

"I say, I think it's terribly touching that you haven't abandoned your fatherly duties even though you're not faring well as a husband!"

He'd been in a huff, he hadn't meant to say it, but he didn't know if Brian would believe that. The way the canine had looked at him, the child had been a little afraid his stepdoggy was going to...spank him or something.

...Yes. Afraid. That was the word.

Brian had kept his paws to himself, however. He was a very good doggy. A very good stepdoggy.

He spent all his spare time with the kids. He made sure Chris was on time leaving for and getting home from Herbert's, and, after hearing Lois wonder out loud if her middle child was really ready for high school, even decided to help the thick-headed teen with his education. Well, he bought the dumbed-down, illustrated classics versions of great novels to give to Chris to at least get him interested in reading. And just for fun, he even took Chris fishing, once.

Stewie remembered sitting on the stairs, watching his stepfather and brother leaving, and feeling curiously left out, not that he had any interest in fish, and not that he'd ever admit it to either of them.

Brian even spent time with _Meg_. Summer for someone as unpopular as her meant a lot of time spent hanging around the house. Brian, noticing this, asked what she'd like to be doing to amuse herself, and after fruitlessly whining about how she'd like to be out with friends, she finally settled on learning a new hobby. She lamented that Lois had never taught her how to cook, and since Brian often found himself making breakfast when Lois couldn't be bothered getting up in the morning and also the occasional dinner (particularly when she got a little drunk _way_ too early on a Saturday night), the dog decided that would be something he and Meg would tackle together.

"Maybe now you'll finally be able to catch a man," taunted Stewie, swinging his legs back and forth, sitting in his highchair and watching them one evening. "You, too, Brian," he added, without really knowing why he did it, only that he should smirk when the mutt turned around to glare at him.

"That's a very pretty apron, stepdoggy," the boy had giggled.

That night, they all sat around the dinner table eating beef tips that were actually pretty decent, and things just sort of gradually devolved. Stewie, looking back, was hard-pressed to remember exactly what had happened. Life under the dog's tenure as "father figure" was definitely less hectic and less filled with wacky shenanigans, but it still came with a mounting number of abnormalities.

It was probably Brian who mentioned that Shakespeare was on Chris's reading list for next year. He and Lois were both drinking, but Lois was the one worse for wear because of it. As if she didn't have enough unflattering qualities.

 _She'd better watch it before she becomes a wino hag_ , Stewie had thought.

The wretched woman had mentioned something about a suggestive part of one of The Bard's books, Brian had looked shocked, and Lois had made a dismissive expression at him. Chris had gotten confused and asked if he was going to be assigned "a dirty book to read". Brian had laughed awkwardly and tried to quote Oscar Wilde, stammering out something about there being no bad books. Chris then clarified that he meant books like the kind he once "found in Mom's nightstand, with the ladies with their dresses ripped open and pirates standing behind them."

Lois declared that it was a good thing Chris couldn't get into her room anymore, Brian had said something like, "Don't you mean _our_ room, honey?", and Lois had made some remark about the beef tips that Stewie was given to understand was "vulgar", based on Meg's gasp and the dog's venturing that, "That might have been inappropriate, don't you think?"

In fact, Brian was so upset by it that he left the table. Just thrown down his napkin and announced, "I'll be in the basement!"

Lately, Brian was in the habit of taking himself off to the basement every so often, and Chris finally asked tonight,

"To do what?"

Pausing before he left the room, and looking not at Chris, but at Lois, a strange gaze of blended defiance and sadness, "What do you think?"

He shuffled off, and the children were addressed as a group by their harlot mother. Maybe she had guessed that this had now happened enough times that the kids would really start to wonder what in the hell was going on. Since she never spoke to him as a rational creature and so wouldn't have answered his questions, it had never occurred to Stewie to ask the horrid house frau what Brian did in the basement. That didn't mean he hadn't tried to follow the dog down there; but every time, the baby had found the door locked.

"Brian has just, er, found the...pressures of heading a family don't leave him with enough time to himself," Lois explained now. "I mean, it's not as bad as with a mother, obviously." She laughed, not completely mirthfully, and sipped her wine. "But, you know, he's not used to it, and really, he does still need his…'me time'." The woman seemed to wince slightly. "So, he's asked that we all be understanding when he needs to step away and...play hacky sack, or whatever."

* * *

The next day was Friday, and Brian was the one to drop Stewie off at preschool.

"TGIF, eh, Brian?" he joked with the dog in the car, as they made the drive to Stewie's school, where the baby's interminable days became a mite more bearable, if barely less insulting. "Looking forward to the weekend?"

"Well…" Brian drawled, dragging out the word to match the length of a smooth turn. "It's funny you should mention that." He looked over at the child and smiled.

Stewie just had to stare at that smile for a moment. Sometimes Brian looked almost...charming. He liked to have that smile directed at him.

"It is?" Stewie prompted. "What do you have planned?" Could it be some romantic nonsense with Lois? But certainly there had been no big thaw in the private Ice Age the two seemed to be living through. No matter how much Brian may wish for one.

"Actually," the canine began, "I was hoping maybe we could do something. Together."

Dear lord, what was that sensation in his heart? Was he ill? It was like, just for an instant, the beating of his heart sped up and got shaky.

"Together?" the baby parroted back. They used to do things together, but how long had it been since they spent any extended amount of time together? Chris got a fishing trip…

Brian nodded and smiled. "Yeah. I mean, I don't know if you've noticed, but I've been trying to spend time with each of you individually. You, your brother, and sister, that is. Only, well, obviously, I haven't really gotten around to you yet, but I wanted to come up with something really special, in your case."

Stewie felt more flattered than he had a right to. He found himself giggling, quite involuntarily. "Well, Brian, you could've just asked me to think up an idea! Who else can take you on exciting adventures to the edge of the universe but Stewie?" The boy grinned, sweeping an arm dramatically through the air, reaching out his hand as if he could touch those farthest reaches of the universe.

The dog laughed and scratched endearingly behind his neck. "Uh, gee, I wanted to surprise you, but maybe I should've let you pick after all. Now that you've mentioned what we could've been doing, I have a feeling the activity that I chose is going to come across as a disappointment."

The baby shrugged, excited regardless. "Very possibly," he said carelessly. "But let's hear it."

He hadn't noticed how far they progressed in their drive to the school. They were nearly there already. Soon they'd be pulling into the drop off line.

"The Children's Science Museum in Providence!" Brian announced, filling his voice with a kind of gusto to get Stewie hyped, but seemingly also unable to keep a note of humility out of it, as he plainly waited for the suggestion to fall flat.

It wasn't the best idea the child had ever heard, but it wasn't the worst, either. He supposed the dog could've done a better job, but decided he'd put enough effort in, because he'd at least landed in the ballpark of what Stewie would like. Normally, those cretins who lived in the same house as him never even thought of what Stewie would like at all, and the fact that Brian had suddenly made all the difference in the world. The baby felt only approval.

"Sounds like a lark," Stewie responded, as Brian lined up to let him out. "Yes, why not? I look forward to seeing the amateurish experiments and humorous education pablum for weak, juvenile minds. It'll be like a comedy club!"

Brian rolled his eyes but laughed along, reaching over to unbuckle the tyke's car seat. While he was over there, he paused, and Stewie fidgeted and got another alarming, jumpy, tickle-in-the-heart sensation. He knew what was coming.

"You know what's coming," the dog teased, as though reading his mind. Stewie averted his eyes and pursed his lips as if in displeasure. For some reason, it wouldn't do to let on that he enjoyed this.

 _Kisses from my stepdoggy..._

"Here comes the airplane," Brian chuckled, and the infant's annoyance became real. That took being patronized too far, and he turned to tell off the impudent animal.

He almost wound up with a kiss on the lips for his trouble, the canine veering at just the last nanosecond and getting a cheek instead.

"My, that was a close one," stated the baby out loud, his voice shocked into flatness, and thankfully not giving away how rattled he felt at said close call. He could only hope his expression was likewise unconcerned.

Behind them, somebody honked, and Brian clicked his tongue and shot the offending party a look in the rearview mirror. "Jeez, way to teach the kids patience, huh? Keep on being a role model, pal. Have a good day, Stewie."

He barely spared the boy a glance, but perhaps that was for the best. Stewie opened the door, uttering, "And to you, as well," before hopping out and heading down the building, where his teacher was shepherding the arriving students into an orderly group like so many innocent little lambs.

Stewie joined them, despite somehow, inexplicably, feeling even less like an innocent little lamb than he ever had in his life.

* * *

That evening, Stewie waited in the living room for Brian to come home. He'd brought down his coloring book and crayons to amuse himself while Lois sat with her feet up in the kitchen, waiting for the pizza. Meg had pitched a hissy fit over not being able to cook dinner, and was pouting upstairs. Chris still hadn't come back from doing chores from Herbert, and someone who lived in this ghastly house _might_ hope that he wasn't currently chained up naked in the friendly neighborhood boy lover's residence with a hood over his head, if it occurred to the ignoramuses that they should hope at all.

Stepdoggy ended up coming home a little later than usual, though he still beat the pizza and Chris. Brian trudged through the door, dragging his briefcase on the floor, looking rather down and out. Even his fedora, askew on his head, managed to look tired.

The dog barely looked at Stewie from beneath his sagging eyelids, just wearily made his way to the couch and hefted himself up onto it with a sigh, dropping his briefcase down near Stewie.

The baby went to say something to the canine, but Brian called out to Lois. He yelled out her name, and the redheaded witch cackled, "What, is the pizza here?"

"Did you order pizza?" asked Brian, and then, getting no response from his wife, he must have determined she couldn't hear him. "Lois?" the canine called louder. "Can you come in here, please?" He laid his head against the back of the couch, rubbed his temples, and groaned.

As soon as Stewie heard the flip-flops smacking along as they moved up and down, the baby rolled his eyes. Lois entered the room, still walking funny, dividers wedged between her toes as they resided in her uncharacteristic footwear.

Brian looked down at his wife's feet.

"Get yourself a little pedicure?"

"I needed a spa day like you wouldn't believe," declared the woman, while her husband sat slumped like a wreck, barely able to keep his eyes open. "I've just been under so much stress! That's why I didn't want to be on my feet cooking- because my energy's just _shot_ and because I don't want to mess up the polish. Isn't it pretty? Robin's egg blue."

"I can't see colors," the dog reminded. "So when does the pizza get here? Chris home yet?"

"It's late," said Lois with a frown. "They said thirty minutes or less. I should call them back and complain. Or maybe threaten not to pay." She paused. "Chris? He's in here somewhere, isn't it?"

Not until that moment. The front door opened, and there stood Chris, who came into the house wearing a top hat and tails. In a cheerful squawk, he answered the curiosity that must have been on everyone's faces.

"Mr. Herbert's teaching me how to ballroom dance!" He jauntily approached the couch and took a load off next to his stepfather. When he saw the dog, he had to do a double take. "Wow, Brian you look beat!"

"Yes, he does, rather," said Stewie, finally making his voice heard- at least by some. "Hard day at the office?" he asked concernedly.

"You don't know the half of it," the dog replied, while he was resting his eyes. Then, they popped open, as he seemed to remember that he wasn't supposed to mention his own suffering. He chuckled, and it came out sounding pretty forced. "I'll be okay, Chris. No worries." Another chuckle, more strained yet. "It's not like it's never happened before!" He cleared his throat, and his tone changed into an announcing-something-to-the-family one.

"But, uhm, in all seriousness, I've got something to tell you guys. I'll probably be working a few more hours, from here on out, or at least until they hire someone else at the dealership, because Sean just quit today."

"Sean?" Stewie exclaimed in surprise, recalling something he'd heard Brian say about that guy. "But wasn't he the one who was all into sales and had the best numbers? The boss's nephew, even? How hard can it be to work for your uncle?"

"Just because he was good at his job doesn't mean he liked it, I guess," said the canine, shrugging. He frowned into middle space, his eyes sad, and at first, the baby thought that he was sorry to lose his work friend, but then he guessed a more likely cause. Brian didn't like working at the Hummer dealership, either. It had offended his sensibilities from day one, but Brian couldn't just go and quit because…

The baby looked around the living room at the various members of the family. Even Meg was making her way down the stairs.

Brian had to feel stuck, didn't he? How could he not?

"Paddy blew a gasket, though," the dog added.

"Well, what is Sean going to do now- ?" Stewie asked, but as he ended the question, Meg, standing in front of them now, started to speak.

"Brian?" Her voice was petulant, and she had her hands on her hips. "Did Mom tell you that she wouldn't let me make dinner? Did she tell you why? Because she wouldn't tell me! You and I did such a great job last time, and I said I'd handle dinner since she didn't want to cook, and- "

"That's enough, Meg," Lois suddenly shut her down sternly. Her gaze flitted over to Brian, before landing back on Meg. "I told you no, and that's that. Don't go trying to stir up trouble between me and Brian, now."

The doorbell rang, which turned out to be the tardy pizza man. Lois crabbed at him a little bit, but did not threaten not to pay, and soon enough, she started handing boxes in, which the rest of them took turns grabbing from her hands and carrying into the dining room. Stewie took a box of what appeared to be some kind of side, and walked behind Brian, who was carrying a pizza.

Meg and Chris were also carrying pizzas.

"W-wow, honey, you think you ordered enough food?" the dog called back to the living room, with an amazed laugh. "Do we have some guests coming that I don't know about? Like a whole army, maybe?"

Nobody answered, but he seemed to maybe be holding for laughter, so once again, Stewie laughed at Brian's lame, Dad joke.

He was rewarded by seeing the dog's tail doing a little wag. The corners of Stewie's mouth turned up in response, all on their own.

Stewie then felt a presence at his back, and jumped, surprised, when he turned and suddenly Lois was right up close behind him, toting a trio of more side dish boxes.

"Aaaahh! Don't sneak up on me, you mad cow!"

"Now we have leftovers," said his wretched mother, presumably addressing her husband.

They all continued to the dining room like train cars, all in a row. And although Brian wasn't bringing up the rear, the youngest Griffin may or may not have spent the rest of the walk watching the dog's caboose.

When the family was getting seated at the table, Brian was the one to help Stewie into his highchair. The boy didn't necessarily need the help, but he didn't complain.

However, something started to bother him just before the dog was about to sit back in his own chair.

"But wait a minute, Brian," the baby began, as the troubling thought occurred to him. "If you're going to be working more, that doesn't mean you'll have to work tomorrow, does it? I mean, our trip to the Children's Science Museum is still on, isn't it?"

His stepdoggy smiled.

"Wanna make absolutely sure you won't be missing out on that comedy club experience, huh? No worries, Stewie. We're definitely still going tomorrow."

"Oh!" the child exclaimed, suddenly a little embarrassed as he looked into those dark, liquid eyes and at that teasing but kind smile. He felt his cheeks heat up a little. "I wasn't...really worried...exactly…" he said in a low voice, twiddling his thumbs, but Brian had already moved on, talking to Lois now.

After depositing the boxes she'd been carrying onto the table, the woman had gone for plates, and as she laid one in front of her dog husband, he smiled and thanked her, but added, somewhat warily, it seemed,

"This really is a lot of food, Lois. It looks delicious- "

"She didn't cook it," Stewie felt compelled to remind him. He looked down at his mother's feet contemptuously. "And her toes should've been dry a looooong time ago. She didn't need to use them as an excuse, or to contaminate our kitchen table by resting her toxic tootsies on it. I don't know how I'll be able to eat breakfast in the same room with it tomorrow morning. But hey, at least now her toenails match the protruding veins in her feet."

Both his mother and stepfather ignored the snarky comments. Brian was still trying to make his point.

"And it's a fun treat to have pizza at the end of the workweek, but, well…" He chuckled awkwardly. "All of this," he gestured around at the food on the table, "must have cost fifty or sixty dollars." He hesitated. "And then there's the pedicure."

Lois had gone back to her own seat, and things had all at once become very still. Chris and Meg were chewing, but they were eating slower than usual, their eyes on their mother. The uncharacteristic quiet in the room seemed to go on for an unnaturally long time. Everyone's attention was on Lois. Like a black hole, she drew everything toward her.

When she did speak, she said simply, "What about it?" In a deliberately light voice that challenged Brian to push his case.

Brian, for his part, had on that guilty, wide-eyed dog look, as if he was the one whose behavior was on trial. And maybe, in a way, that was correct.

"Ahaha," he chuckled nervously. "Just...can we be a little more careful, honey? How about it? It's okay to splurge once in awhile, but I'm not made of money, you know."

There was another tense, lengthy pause that had even Stewie holding his breath. Well, that, and trying not to blurt out at Lois, "What, did you have a stroke, bitch?"

Then…

"Fine." One word, clipped but compliant, though something in her gaze was argumentative, still. In fact, as they all slowly resumed eating, she muttered defensively, "'Once in awhile'. Well, tonight was kind of the first time, wasn't it? It's not like I do this all the time. I guess it's a good thing you're getting more hours, though, to make up for my mistake."

She wasn't looking at anybody; her eyes were trained down inflexibly as she shook parmesan cheese onto her slices of pizza. But the dog was watching her. He looked sad. Almost as if he wanted to comfort her, and it was almost enough to set Stewie's blood to boiling.

"I love you, dear," Brian offered out of nowhere, seconds later, and the baby just about slapped himself on the forehead out of frustration and secondhand embarrassment. Stewie might not be a relationship expert, but even he knew a hamfisted, ill-placed attempt at romance when it was as obvious as that one.

As uncomfortable as this dinner was, though, it was turning out to be one of the most oddly civilized in Griffin family history. There was no noisiness or crude talking with mouths full; mostly just people eating while staring at walls or at their food. Or Lois, in Brian's case.

* * *

"Goodnight, sweetie," Lois crooned, lowering him down into his crib. Her hold slipped, either intentionally or not, and she wound up dropping him from a couple of inches above the mattress. Stewie gave a little grunt as he was briefly a literal bouncing baby boy, but was mostly just relieved he'd have no more pinot-scented burps near his face tonight.

"Pleasant dreams," the woman told him, as she made her slightly wobbly way to the door.

"Horrific nightmares!" Stewie merrily wished her in return, but of course she didn't respond. She vacated the room, and the boy laid there, the night closed in around him, unable to sleep.

He realized he was excited for tomorrow...maybe a little disproportionately excited. This certainly wouldn't be the grandest adventure he'd ever been on, and he wondered why he was looking forward to it quite so much. Still, being anxious for the morning wasn't the only reason Stewie couldn't sleep. He quite simply had a bout of restlessness, without knowing where it came from.

The baby stared up at his mobile, squinting to see the shapes as best he could in the dark. Down the hallway, he heard that vile woman's door close aaaannd...lock. Yes. There it was. Stewie frowned up at the fuzzily silhouetted menagerie of animals hanging above him. His eyes found the platypus.

 _Platypus? Okay, kind of an unconventional choice to be included in that group. Every kid's favorite- the platypus._

Stewie decided he would start the mobile and count how many times the platypus came around, and maybe that would lull him to sleep. But before he could put his plan into motion, his mind turned back toward his mother's room. Well, his mother and Brian's room, no matter how much the thought of them sharing a room as man and wife still made him shudder.

Was it Lois's idea to lock the door? Did Brian shudder in fear and disgust when she locked them in together at night? Stewie had more or less given up his theory about a torture chamber, or plans to destroy the world (er, his mother's plans, that was), but he had to believe whatever she was hiding wasn't good. He remembered when he'd sworn to get to the bottom of it.

He could get his ray gun and go blast the lock off right now, find out. But no, he had no idea what he'd be walking into. Did he want to open a can of worms he'd still be dealing with tomorrow and that would interfere with his outing? No, whenever he chose to make his move and find a way into the locked bedroom, he'd have to be stealthier than that.

The baby pouted in his crib. His life, perhaps even more now than before, was about keeping him in the dark about things. It was most exceedingly vexing. Locked doors, both literal and metaphorical abounded. Because yes, there was more than one actual door, wasn't there? There was also the basement door Brian locked tight behind him when he wanted to hide for awhile from the fact that he'd married the bride of Chucky.

It was then, just then, with his arms crossed over his little chest, staring at a platypus in the dark, that an idea- no, a hunch, really- occurred to him. What good relations there had been to begin with in this marriage of convenience were deteriorating. Might that have something to do with Lois's concealed misdeeds in the locked room she and the dog were supposed to share? If Brian liked to have "me time" in the basement, maybe he was down there at this very moment. That was, if Lois didn't force him to spend the night with her out of insatiable prurient desires.

Stewie slipped from his crib, quiet as a mouse, snagging his ray gun just in case. There was at least an outside chance that Brian could be in the basement, and if he was, that was one mystery solved tonight. He would find out what Brian did alone, and that would be one less secret being kept from Stewie. That sounded like a much more productive thing to do than lying in bed and trying in vain to sleep.

He moved like a ninja through the dark, sleeping household, and quickly found himself in front of the closed basement door. Closed and locked. Stewie tried the knob, just to be sure. Brian might be careless and forget sometime- he seemed like the type to blow his own top secret operation. But, no. The door was indeed locked.

The infant shifted his ray gun back and forth between both of his hands, looking down at it thoughtfully. This was a way in, but it also left evidence behind. Once he used it, there would be a hole in the door, and what if Brian got blamed for that? No, best to use something that didn't leave any damage behind.

Then he remembered something, which was a stroke of luck. It was also a stroke of luck that Lois hadn't washed this sleeper since last night, and that last night was when Meg had dropped a bejeweled bobby pin on the stairs.

Normally, Stewie would hesitate big time before attaching anything that had made contact with Meg's body to his own person. However, it had just been so pretty and sparkly, and Stewie had boiled it clean, so he figured it was okay. He'd picked it up and kept it because he wanted to experiment with using it in his own hair. He only had a little bit of that so far, true, but the strands that he did have were lovely and lustrous, and deserved something as glam as that pin.

Now, it would serve a different purpose.

It was child's play to pick the lock. Stewie then took a deep breath as he opened the door just enough to pass through. He was going to be sooo disappointed if Brian turned out to be doing something boring. The boy was pretty confident that the dog wasn't, though. Secrets that had to be kept behind lock and key should have the decency to be juicy.

Standing at the top of the stairs, his ears picked up the sound of a barely audible cry. Stewie froze, cocked his head, and listened for more. It sounded like Brian was...whimpering?

Oh, god, is that what he came down here to do? Cry?

 _Oh, no..._

The super genius infant was conflicted. He felt a pang, like a hook had been inserted into his heart and was being pulled on. Such was his pain at suspecting his stepdoggy was in pain. On the other hand, this was not the scoop he'd hoped to discover. He didn't know what he'd expected to find, but he'd had a vague hope it was something fun and salacious, something he hadn't been meant to find out. Well, perhaps Brian had meant to keep his misery private, but now Stewie would have to go to him, and attempt to offer him comfort. And the baby was absolute _crap_ at comforting people.

Still, when he heard another exclamation, still soft, but louder than the rest, and _desperate_ sounding, that was enough to propel Stewie forward, swiftly creeping down the stairs. He heard Brian moan a couple more times, and he was about to call out to his friend. But that was before he saw what the dog was doing.

When Stewie's stepdoggy came into view, he turned out to be lying on the couch, sprawled out like one whose entire energy was concentrated on this moment of letting go. He was whining uncontrollably, his expression looked pained, and his eyes were squeezed shut.

Stewie gasped and quickly squeezed his shut, before ducking behind a stack of boxes, out of sight.

 _What...what was he_ _ **doing**_?

The baby's heart beat faster. Some part of him knew, some instinctual part of him combined with the part that had absorbed all the references and jokes from society and pop culture. Stewie opened his eyes back up and peeked around the boxes at Brian, who had himself well in hand.

Yes, Stewie had heard about this, but he had never seen anything like it before. Nor had he tried doing it himself. He had the same equipment, of course… Well, it didn't look quite like _that_. The boy's cheeks burned self-consciously at how un-self-conscious the canine was, frigging away at himself enthusiastically.

Of course Stewie got the occasional stiffy, but Brian's doghood looked so hard and firm, if you were to slap someone across the face with it, you'd probably knock them out.

But then, why would you slap them across the face with it?

This was wrong. This was so wrong. He was watching his stepfather pleasure himself, for crying out loud! Stewie figured he must be experiencing pleasure, because why else would he be doing it, but he seemed to be feeling so much pleasure that he could barely take it. The child had never seen that expression on anyone's face before.

All the while, Brian continued to moan and groan, whine and whimper. He was also panting very loudly. Then suddenly, Stewie discovered it wasn't just the dog's labored breathing that he was hearing. He, Stewie, was also breathing heavily. It was so noticeable that Brian surely would have heard him, was he not so occupied with his own...activities, and making plenty of noise himself.

The baby felt curiously hot all over, and a little faint. His gaze wandered from Brian's face back to his member, and the paw flying rapidly up and down it. Stewie, who never struggled to use his brain, now was in the uncustomary position of being basically unable to think, to make out even one coherent thought in the muddle of his mind.

 _Oh. Wait. Here's one. My pants feel tight._

Following on the heels of that one was a shadow of a question, wanting to know why his stomach wasn't turned, why he wasn't running out of here as fast as he could, making proclamations of disgust. He chose not to focus on that question right now.

So something was wrong with him, what else was new? He'd deal with that later, but right now all he wanted to do was…

 _Aaaaaaahhh!_

In his mind, he cried out, while his lips parted to let a little hiss escape. The boy rubbed his crotch through his sleeper, the padding of his diaper only a slight impediment to pleasure. This was still so much... _more_ than anything he'd ever felt before. This was the first time he'd touched himself with an erotic intention.

 _My word! That's...that's delightful!_

Yes, by god, he should stop watching, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the show in front of him. It was like Brian was an unwitting performer, and that squalid old couch his stage. Stewie now knew what it was to be a voyeur, and that thought excited him even more. He rubbed harder against the front of his sleeper, beginning to bump his hips forward.

Brian began to grunt urgently, thrusting into that paw. His young stepson, unbeknownst to the canine, was watching mere feet away, utterly mesmerized by what he was seeing, and unable to get enough of what he was hearing. It was all so raw, so animalistic, so stimulating. All he wanted to do was touch himself. Why had he never done this before?! What had this dog- _his stepfather_ \- done to him? _Yessss,_ all he wanted to do was touch himself. Touch himself to Brian.

However, it seemed the show was ending? Because as Stewie looked on, feeling a smidge of alarm, the dog appeared to reach some kind of grand crescendo. It happened all at once, Brian letting out a gruff sound that resembled a drawn-out, particularly satisfied bark, while a spray of something whitish shot from the animal's member, and his body gave a rough jerk on the couch. Stewie gasped, and while his own little erection pulsed so much that it almost pained him, he couldn't breathe again until he saw that Brian was alright.

Alright he was, and he seemed to be coming out of his self-indulgent mood. No longer was he focused so single-mindedly on moving his paw up and down his member, but he was opening his eyes and sitting up. Stewie gulped, and withdrew all the way back behind the boxes.

He heard Brian moving around, just making some slow, shuffling noises. And he heard the dog let out a sigh. It seemed like a resigned, tired sigh, which perplexed Stewie, when Brian had apparently just recently been in the grip of bliss. The child didn't puzzle over this very hard, though, because he still felt that pressing need in his groin, and, reaching down to give himself a squeeze, nearly whimpered out loud. He clamped a hand over his mouth and chanced a peek around at Brian again.

His stepdoggy was facing away from him, but seemed to be wiping at himself and the couch with a tissue. Now would probably be the perfect opportunity to leave. He had seen enough, and if he hung around much longer, he might get caught. With this in mind, Stewie turned and fled; somewhat slower than he would've liked, since movement proved a little uncomfortable in his state.

But the sooner he got up to bed, not only would he not be found wandering the house trying to spy on people, he would be alone and free to have at himself without caution!

Oh, what it might be, to unbutton his pajamas, or maybe even disrobe entirely, and do just what his stepdoggy had been doing! The baby reached his room, shut the door behind him, and climbed back into bed with alacrity.

All he wanted to do was touch himself…

His hand curled for the first time around his shaft seconds later, though, he realized that wasn't true. It played out like a movie in his mind's eye, what he'd discovered in the basement...

He wanted to touch himself.

And he wanted to touch Brian.

Soft fur and hard flesh. Sounds of pleasure and wanting. Oh, that wanting was such a sweet ache! Wanting what? _Just more…_ His hand speeding faster. _...And more..._ He wasn't sure if that was a hand, after all. _It could be a paw._ Oooo, he got quite a tingle from that thought! _Brian touching me?_

 _My stepdoggy...making me...feel things…_ Not just leading by example, but by laying paws on Stewie, like he'd handled his own hardened, _needy_ flesh on that couch. The boy closed his eyes tightly.

 _It shouldn't feel this good_. It had no right to feel this good… Just friction on a simple body part. _Just a little pressure…_ Truly he was in heaven. His breath quickened, images of that bad doggy clutching him just how he desired to be clutched flashing through his head. It felt so good but also… _Strange._ The pleasure was intensifying, and Stewie couldn't even believe that was possible. _How could that be possible?!_ But even stranger still was the growing pressure below his waist, like he was about to wet himself. That's the only way the child could describe it, but he was too far gone to care. He couldn't stop. He had to see this through. His hand sped up, and he imagined looking up into Brian's face. _His caring face…_ Knowing the dog was doing this to make him feel good, because he cared for him. It touched him, and in the next instant the boy saw stars as he let out a muffled cry, biting down on his free hand to stifle the noise that he was afraid would wake up one of his nearby family members. He felt his tiny tool twitching in his hand, and he bucked his hips upward repeatedly as he writhed around on the mattress, tossing the sheets around as he rode out the sensations coursing through his body.

It was over far too quickly.

The child laid there, still holding himself firmly, feeling himself softening up finally. He was tired and covered in sweat, which would normally bother him, but right here, in this moment, he couldn't give less of a fuck about being sweaty. It took him several moments to catch his breath and to finally release his boyhood. He stretched out and looked over at his discarded sleeper, which he couldn't even remember taking off. It had all happened so fast. What a rush. What a sensation.

He'd definitely be doing _that_ again.

For a brief moment he considered putting his sleeper back on before coming to the conclusion that he was too exhausted to expend the effort. Without another thought, he rolled over and shut his eyes. It didn't take sleep long to take hold. There would be plenty to think about in the morning. But, for now, he just felt…

 _Satisfied..._


	7. Chapter 6: I'll Be in the Basement II

**Chapter 6: "I'll Be in the Basement.": The Aftermath**

 _Aaaaaaahhh!_

 _The child froze, terror shooting up through his tiny body. He hadn't meant to groan out loud, but he just couldn't help it. What he was witnessing here was just too much. Too. Fucking. Hot. Even knowing he was most certainly caught, he still couldn't keep himself from reaching down to rub at the front of his sleeper, eagerly seeking that firm pressure against his groin._

 _The dog shot up, still clutching his member as his eyes frantically scanned the room. It didn't take long for his gaze to land on the infant who was peeking out from the boxes across the room. The breath caught in his throat as he gasped._

" _St-Stewie..?"_

 _The boy didn't know what to say to his stepdoggy, so he didn't say anything, just remained where he was. Rubbing himself. Staring at the dog with a hint of desperation. And, for a while, that was all they did, just stare at each other. Brian kept his paw firmly around his length. He appeared to be giving it a squeeze every few seconds or so. All the while, Stewie just stayed there, eyes fixated on that paw, mouth dry, hand petting himself diligently. After gulping audibly, the canine finally spoke._

" _Y-You… You saw everything...didn't you?"_

 _Stewie's breath hitched as he took a step out from behind the boxes, towards Brian, while nodding his head. Brian sighed and shook his head._

" _You weren't… You weren't supposed to see this…"_

 _The boy took another step forward._

" _I...I'm glad I did."_

 _The words probably shocked Stewie more than they shocked Brian, and from the look on the dog's face, they obviously shocked him a VERY great deal. He gulped again._

" _Y-You should… You should go!"_

 _The baby took a few more steps._

" _But… But I don't want to go."_

 _He squeezed his little member and hissed, hoping the dog understood what it was he was driving at._

" _I want to stay here with you. Look what you've done to me."_

 _He reached the couch and climbed up to sit beside his dumbfounded pet._

" _It feels good. I never knew it could feel so good."_

 _He shifted onto his hands and knees and crawled towards the animal, resting his hands on the canine's thighs as he gazed into his stricken eyes._

" _I want to keep feeling good. Help me feel good, Brian."_

 _Their faces were mere inches apart, and the dog seemed like he was about to pull away. But, he didn't. Instead, his gaze softened, expression growing contemplative as he reached out and placed his free paw over one of the boy's hands._

" _Oh, Stewie…"_

* * *

"Stewie!"

The boy's eyes shot open, immediately emerging from deep slumber as he heard his name being exclaimed. He looked over and saw Brian standing by his crib, jaw hanging open and eyes flicking back and forth like he was hesitant to look down at him. For a brief second, the infant was deeply confused.

"Brian? What are you…"

Then, he felt a chill, and it suddenly hit him as he began to recall all of the events from last night. His cheeks grew hot, and despite having been naked in front of Brian before without a care in the world, the boy rushed to cover himself with his blanket, feeling oh so embarrassed. A few moments later, the canine seemed to recover from his shock as he finally focused his eyes on the infant in the crib.

"Why the hell were you…were you naked, Stewie?"

For a brief second, the child was speechless, but being quite the prideful individual, it didn't take long for Stewie to adapt his usual carefree attitude, even if his heart was pounding rapidly and his head was swimming. He still felt embarrassed, but he knew he couldn't let Brian know, couldn't dare give him even the slightest hint. The child rolled his eyes.

"What's it matter? Haven't you heard? Sleeping nude is actually quite healthy, not that you would bother keeping up with such things."

The baby folded his arms over his chest and shot the dog a scolding look. Brian just tilted his head, not really seeming that phased.

"Uhh, ok. So, this is like a thing you do now? Didn't think I would appreciate hearing about this sooner so I didn't come in here and see you buck ass naked?"

The tension was dying down, and Stewie knew that, if it didn't run the risk of giving his true emotions away, he would gladly exhale a sigh of relief. It was so much easier to think when he wasn't on the verge of panic.

"Oh, come on, Brian. As if it was that bad. It's not exactly something you haven't seen before. What? You need to brace yourself?"

He chuckled.

"Your heart can't take it?"

This comment definitely earned a rise out of his favorite doggy. Brian's eyes widened and he shot back.

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?!"

Stewie chose to ignore the question, though, only offering a simple shrug before batting his hand.

"I need to get dressed. You're welcome to stay and watch, but I wouldn't want to risk giving you a heart attack."

Brian stammered for something to say in response before finally just groaning.

"Whatever, Stewie. Hurry up. The museum opens soon, so we need to get going. I'll be downstairs."

And, the dog was apparently alright with just leaving things at that as he turned to leave the room. Once he was gone, the boy reached up to wipe his forehead as he finally released that relieved sigh.

 _Talk about a close call._

A close call to what, Stewie wasn't exactly sure.

The baby tossed his blanket to the side and hopped out of his crib. For a little while there, he had actually forgotten his plans with Brian for the day due to the shock of waking up naked in front of stepdoggy, but after hearing the dog mention the museum, he actually found himself in a bit of a rush to get dressed and downstairs. He was still excited to go, despite the events from the night before. Things were sure to be awkward, though...

The infant was in the process of buttoning his overalls but stopped at that thought.

 _Awkward._

Not for Brian but for him. After all, Brian didn't know who had been watching him last night. ...Who had taken pleasure in what they'd seen… The boy shivered.

 _So much pleasure._

That sensation below his waist was returning. He shifted his legs, trying to relieve that pressure which was now causing him quite a bit of discomfort. It only helped a little bit, and it took everything in him to not reach down and touch the front of his pants. God, this was frustrating… Was this how things were going to be, now? Was he doomed to become aroused at the thought of Brian, even during the most inopportune of times? He shouldn't have to deal with this!

 _And why is this happening with fucking Brian, anyway?!_

He'd found plenty of people attractive before, but none of them had ever had the effect on him that the damn dog did. Of course, he'd never seen such a blatant sexual display, either.

Wait.

That was it. It wasn't Brian that aroused him, right? Of course not. He laughed. It was just… It was just the ACT he had witnessed. It could have been anyone, really.

It was an answer that satisfied Stewie, explained everything nice and neatly, nothing to worry about.

...It was a shame he didn't believe it for a second.

Because, while he had never seen anyone doing what Brian had done, he still knew he had seen plenty of things that he would consider sexy, and he'd never ONCE gotten...hard, as he had heard said to describe an erect penis.

There was also that whole thing about actually wanting Brian specifically to touch him last night.

Stewie felt a chill go up his spine as his arousal intensified.

 _Dammit to hell!_

He reached into his pocket to adjust himself before finally buttoning his overalls. He had a lot to think about. Though he absolutely hated to admit ignorance about any subject, he knew there was plenty about this topic that he was still unaware of. He needed to learn more, find out how all of this was supposed to work and hopefully find a way to stop going stiff at the mere thought of his best friend.

* * *

 _It's getting hot in here._

 _So take off all your clothes._

Brian slammed the radio off and shook his head.

"Never anything good on."

Stewie nodded his head, not necessarily agreeing that nothing on the radio was ever good, but approving of the canine's swift dismissal of that overplayed club track.

The two of them were in the Prius, on their way to the Children's Science Museum in Providence. They hadn't said much to each other. Well, Brian had been plenty talkative when they first started driving, but Stewie, despite trying, was finding it hard to keep a conversation going. It didn't take long for the dog to quiet down and begin searching for something to listen to, only to find nothing he cared for.

Now, there was silence.

Honestly, Stewie felt a little bad. He didn't want Brian to think that he was ignoring him because that was FAR from the truth, and he didn't want the canine to feel bad at the start of what was supposed to be a fun day for them.

 _Just for us…_

Stewie smiled.

"Thanks for taking me."

The dog looked over at him and smiled back.

"You're welcome, kid."

Silence again, but at least it was a much more comfortable silence, a stark contrast to the discomfort Stewie was feeling as he wiggled around in his carseat. His little problem from earlier had proved to be quite persistent, unfortunately. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't quite pull his mind completely away from the events of last night. He wasn't really caught up in the concerns from earlier. He had resolved to deal with all that later because he really did want to enjoy this trip.

...But the images were still there...and that was enough.

He reached down to grab at himself but stopped, gritting his teeth.

 _No! Don't! It's not a long drive. You can get through this, Stewart!_

"Hey."

The dog's voice broke through his thoughts and pulled him back to reality. He turned to look over at Brian, showing he was listening.

"Let's, uh, let's play a game or something."

The child blinked, curiosity taking hold.

"A game? What kind of game?"

The dog shrugged.

"You know, there are all kinds of games you can play in the car. A traveling game. You wanna play a traveling game?"

Stewie kind of knew what Brian was driving at. Though, at the moment, no games in particular were coming to mind.

"Uh, sure. Did you have any particular game in mind?"

Brian didn't answer right away, obviously contemplating his response before finally grinning and snapping his fingers.

"Oh! I know a pretty good one."

The canine pointed at a car in front of them.

"You're supposed to read the license plates."

The child tilted his head, slightly confused. That didn't sound like much of a game, but he decided to give it a try. He looked at the car's license plate and read it.

"R.K.Y. R.D."

Stewie shrugged.

"Ok. Now what?"

Brian shook his head.

"No. Not like that. READ it. See, that one says 'Rocky Road'. Here, I'll do the next one."

They drove just a little ways more, the canine's eyes casting about for a suitable license plate, before all at once he snickered.

"Okay, okay!" Brian leaned slightly toward the passenger side and pointed at a car ahead of them and to the right. "H.0.3. M.B.L. It's not perfect, but with a little work…"

Stewie suddenly laughed and clapped his hands together. "Oh! Hoe mobile! How deliciously droll! Alright, I get it! I get what you're going for." He began looking for license plates, too. Before long he spotted another one.

"Ok, so we have 0.0.7. B.V.D."

He turned his head to look over at Brian.

"Buuuuut, with a little creative thinking 0.0.7. can be 007 which can be James Bond, and BVD is a brand of men's underwear. Sooooo, that one can basically be read as James Bond's underwear!"

The infant giggled at the statement, and Brian chuckled, as well.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. I guess that works. Interesting thought process there, Stewie."

"Just working with what they gave me," said Stewie cheerfully, none too defensive, though he may have blushed a little on the inside. Brian gave a celebratory cry of discovery and hastened to point out,

"And there- 5.X.Y. L.D.Y.- we have a sexy lady."

The boy cocked his head and shrugged. "Eh, kinda. Let's see…"

He scanned his eyes over the cars on the road. It took a little while before he finally found another that stuck out to him. He nudged the dog's shoulder.

"Ah. Here we are. 0.0.1. R.V.R."

Brian blinked and scratched his head.

"Ok. What's that one?"

The child gave the canine a playful wink as he replied.

"Why, number one rover, of course."

Brian's look of bemusement changed into a surprised but rather flattered one, and it warmed Stewie's heart. Even the dog's eyes seemed to be smiling, in the moment before he shifted his attention back to the road and the other cars traveling down it.

After perhaps half a minute, Stewie's stepdoggy cleared his throat and gave a chuckle. He seemed almost reluctant to raise his paw and use a digit to indicate a car that was currently passing them.

1.Q.T. P.Y.E., it read.

"One cutie pie," said Brian, watching the license plate travel away from them.

Stewie could have sworn that his heart stopped for a brief second as a blush rushed to his cheeks. He quickly turned his head away, hoping to conceal it.

"Well… I guess… I guess it can be read that way, can't it."

The child was so flustered that he found it difficult to focus on the task of finding his next plate. Luckily, despite not seeing a good license plate for their little game, what the child did see was their destination coming up down the road. Before long, they were parking, and Brian was leaning over to undo him from his car seat. They both hopped out, and as Stewie took the dog's hand, he found that he was able to walk more comfortably than he had since first waking up.

 _And here we are coming up on a whole building full of distractions. We're going to have a buttload of good, clean fun today_ , thought the baby, with happy and relieved satisfaction.

Carefree, they made their way inside, stopping at a little window, behind which an attendant at a desk sold them admissions wristbands. From there, it was through a turnstile and into a world of "educational" delights.

Still clutching the dog's paw, Stewie looked around at the handful of other children who were at the museum that day- and the adults who accompanied them. Everyone seemed smiley and in good spirits. The boy had to assume this was one of those "wholesome family fun" outings that was deemed so good for kids, and as he contentedly proceeded across the linoleum floor with his stepdoggy, he reflected that he'd never before felt like such a normal kid, enjoying a normal childhood afternoon.

Before they even got to the first exhibit, Brian and Stewie came upon the gift shop, which made the dog scoff and grumble about how capitalism wasted no time in trying to profit off you, no matter where you were.

"That's what all the cheapskate dads say," Stewie bandied back, his tone light and teasing, and while the canine warned, "Watch it," he did so with a slight smile, and added that if Stewie was good, he could have _one_ souvenir, within reason, before they left.

"I'll be as good as gold!" the infant vowed sunnily, and they made their way to exhibit number one.

"Well, this is promising," said Stewie drily, his excitement dimming a bit. He read the sign on the exhibit. "How do magnets work?" He clapped his hands on either side of his face and feigned a confounded expression. "Why, I simply don't know!"

"Okay, fine, so they don't exactly know how to lure people in with the big guns…" began his stepdoggy, to which the boy replied eagerly,

"Are there going to be big guns here? Because if the other exhibits don't improve, I may have to use them on myself before the end of the day."

Brian frowned. "Not funny." He tugged on the boy's hand. "C'mon. They probably just put the basic stuff up front so they don't overload the kids who _aren't_ super geniuses with too much knowledge right away. We'll find some better stuff."

The plasma globe at least made Stewie giggle as he and Brian ran their fingers over the surface and made various spidery designs of electric light appear and contort. They moved on next to the Van de Graaf generator, and the boy giggled harder to see Brian's white fur stand all on end. There was even a station set up across from it, where you could set a timer on a camera to take a picture of you in five seconds, so it captured and spit out an image of you under the effects of the Van de Graaf generator.

Holding onto his photo like a prized possession while his other hand rested in Brian's, Stewie then found himself in front of an exhibit which boasted that it could show him what it was like to walk on the moon. After reading a poster talking briefly about space and zero gravity, the dog and boy wandered out onto some kind of bouncy, spongy material, dotted here and there with foam-like "space rocks". Moving around on the surface of the "moon" was like walking on a trampoline, and Stewie and Brian held hands while jumping up and down, laughing together.

"This is totally factually inaccurate, but I don't care!" shouted the infant, exhilarated.

After that came a type of playhouse that was shaped like a rocket. They stepped inside and found another camera. It snapped a picture of the two as they examined the replica of a control panel, and again as they looked at a screen, fashioned to look like a window, which played some footage of planets, asteroids, and comets as if they were really rocketing through space.

"An Egyptian exhibit!" Stewie exclaimed when they emerged from the rocket ship, and they hurried over. While Stewie played with a pad of paper and some stamps featuring hieroglyphics, Brian read allowed from a poster that explained the process of embalming. He shuddered throughout, and even the sometimes-psychotic infant winced once or twice. They spent some time staring at a dummy wrapped up like a Mummy and took a photo by it.

Stewie was about to skip off to the next exhibit, but the dog held him back and indicated that they had accidentally passed one up on the way to the mummy and hieroglyphics. No wonder, as it looked like a restroom, or perhaps an entrance for employees only- it was, in fact, behind a closed door. A sign, however, informed them that through that door was an astronomy exhibit: a simulation of the night sky.

"How about we do this one," Brian suggested, "and then we go get some lunch, okay? This place has its very own cafeteria, and they do foods from around the world."

The pair entered a dark room, lit only by lights in the floor similar to a movie theater. It was empty apart from several benches and the families that filled a couple.

Brian and Stewie looked at each other and shrugged.

They chose a bench next to that of a young family with two children. There was a little girl of about five years old, and the mother was holding a baby to her chest- a boy, judging by the way he was dressed- and was gently bouncing him, while she and his father clucked over him and tried to get him to stop fussing.

"I think he's a little young for this museum," whispered Brian to Stewie. "I don't know what we're waiting for, and what's supposed to be going on in this exhibit, but I sure hope he doesn't cry through it."

The baby was only quietly sobbing off and on, so Stewie rolled his eyes at Brian's stuffy pessimism, but still, he rather shared his stepdoggy's hopes. All the same, he offered up to the canine:

"You know we cry out of existential angst."

Brian raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

The baby of the young couple beside them soon fell silent, and right after, a voice boomed out from the speakers that must have been installed in the room. It was lucky the fussy baby didn't just immediately start up again.

The voice started talking about the solar system, and stars in particular. All of a sudden, the ceiling became illuminated, with hundreds of lights that looked like stars twinkling overhead. Everyone gasped and oohed and awwed.

"It's beautiful!" exclaimed Stewie, clasping his hands together rapturously.

Constellations soon started being pointed out to the audience, lines of light appearing on the ceiling to connect certain stars like celestial connect-the-dots. The Big Dipper and Little Dipper appeared, and Gemini, the constellation made up of the brothers Romulus and Remus.

"Raised by wolves," Stewie said, educating Brian.

In actuality, the children's museum's simulation of the night sky and its stars was pretty realistic. Stewie considered himself to be a harsh critic on just about everything, but even he was suitably impressed. Judging by their reactions, the rest of the star gazers were in agreement. The little crowd was silent but for their murmurs of surprise and delight. Over on the bench of the neighboring family, the mother had taken her infant son and turned him around, holding him in her lap to see the display. After witnessing this, out of nowhere, formed spontaneously from some mysterious particles Stewie didn't comprehend, a thought coalesced which bewildered him, and then quite plagued him.

 _What if I were to sit in Brian's lap?_

Once he had the thought, the boy couldn't get rid of it. But damned if he could act on it, either. It would have been mortifying to have to explain what he was doing, not that he knew himself. It reminded him of being in the church, rehearsing Lois and the dog's wedding ceremony, and almost kissing Brian. Then, he'd at least had the excuse of being deranged over his opposition to the marriage, but this here, in this little star theater? This was way too earnest of a moment.

There was easy listening music playing under the narration. Stewie hummed to himself and sort of automatically slide over closer to Brian. Once he realized what he was doing, he decided it was a good compromise between doing nothing and climbing into the canine's lap.

"Do you know the story of Cepheus and Cassiopeia?" Brian asked, as the narration was speaking about the constellation of Cassiopeia. His deep voice, rumbling low so near to Stewie in the dark at first startled the tyke, but then he relaxed and soaked in it. Brian's tones were so soothing. He even found himself leaning against the canine's side. "They were a king and a queen. Forever entombed in the sky, after they were killed by the head of Medusa. Their son-in-law, Perseus, used the slain Medusa's head as his trump card to defeat some chump who wanted to steal his wife away from him. But in the process, it also killed his wife's parents."

"That's a beautiful story…" murmured Stewie dreamily.

He felt the dog give a little jump next to him.

"Well," Stewie's stepdoggy barked a surprised, dry laugh. "I don't know about that. The story as a whole has some romance in it, sure. I guess. Like when Perseus met his love, Andromeda, and rescued her from where she was chained to a rock as sea monster bait."

Stewie made a noise of casual argument. "You're using the definition of romance that everybody does. Everybody forgets that it can also refer to anything with the qualities of heroism and adventure."

"I know that!" Brian whispered back a little too forcefully. It made the corners of Stewie's lips turn up. He liked that Brian couldn't let himself be thought ignorant, even by the baby, still. The defensiveness in Brian's voice made the child feel as though things were almost like normal, like they were still friends who could banter and not just stepdoggy and stepson.

"But you weren't talking about romance," continued Brian. "You were talking about beauty."

"What do you know about either?" Stewie retorted, nudging him, looking up at him with an adversarial little smirk.

His stepdoggy removed his gaze from the star-covered ceiling long enough to look back down at Stewie. They made eye contact...and held it. The canine opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but for reasons unknown, those words never came. The moment seemed to become long and drawn-out to Stewie.

Again, his thoughts wandered unbidden to when he had almost kissed Brian in the church. The air had an odd thickness and pressure to it.

"Twinkle, twinkle, little star! How I wonder what you are!"

In unison, Brian's and Stewie's heads snapped around toward the family sitting closest to them, which was where the singing was coming from. It turned out the child initially pinpointed as the likely troublemaker wasn't the one they really should've been worried about. The 5-year-old girl was now singing loudly and off-key, while her little brother sat quietly.

Brian sighed in frustration, but strangely, no one else seemed likewise put-out. From another part of the room, a little boy began to join in the caterwauling. All at once, every parental figure excepting Brian exhaled an "Awww!" and every child who could talk excepting Stewie presumed to sing.

Stewie and Brian looked at each other in the midst of this group sing-along, and then, making the decision together, hopped down from their bench and left the theater hand-in-hand.

"You've got too many pictures to hang onto," the dog declared once they were outside the door. "I'll go get you something from the gift shop to put them in."

"And leave me here alone?" Stewie was caught unawares by Brian's declaration. "Oh, _that's_ responsible." The boy didn't really expect to see his stepdoggy striding off, despite the words the canine had uttered, but as Stewie finished speaking, he was already looking at the back of Brian. The baby watched in minor astonishment as Brian's tail disappeared around a museum case.

This was so unlike the dog's recent behavior that Stewie struggled to make sense of it. Sure, Brian should know that his youngest stepchild could take care of himself more than most people in the world, but then, stepdoggy now gave Stewie all kinds of things that the child didn't strictly _need_. Carrying him here and there. Those absurd kisses hello and goodbye and goodnight…

Those kisses that sparked against the infant's cheek and made him feel all warm inside.

While waiting for Brian to return, Stewie managed to get distracted by a display on irrigation, where museum guests could push a little button and cause water to flow into a model field. The dog didn't tarry long; he reappeared at the boy's side in probably less than ten minutes, holding onto the little bag he'd bought for Stewie.

But it wasn't just any little bag, Stewie soon discovered…

"You got me a freakin' _fanny pack_?" the baby gasped in disbelief. He crossed his arms tightly to convey his lack of pleasure. "Not cool, Brian. _Very_ not cool." He disdainfully flicked his finger at the little green pack, emblazoned with the museum's logo.

"Not to mention, it totally clashes with my outfit."

He'd never actually even seen anyone wear a fanny pack before, he'd only heard that they'd fallen out of fashion. He snatched the offending item out of Brian's grasp and gave a beleaguered sigh. The mutt was right, though. This _would_ make it easier for him to carry his pictures.

His face still screwed into an expression of distaste, the child went about putting the fanny pack on. His little hands fiddled with the clasp over his belly, while the zippered sack portion of the accessory rested in the back against his bum.

Thrusting the short stack of photos at Brian, Stewie whirled around and instructed the dog,

"Okay. Stuff my fanny."

The dog coughed loudly, and the next thing the boy knew, two paws landed firmly on his shoulders and spun him back around.

"I think you're a little confused…" Brian muttered, kneeling down and unfastening the fanny pack clasp, his eyes focused on his task. He adjusted the fanny pack so Stewie now wore it front-ways, and zipped the pictures inside. The dog straightened up, smirking at the young child. "Don't ever try to tell me I've got nothing left to teach you."

Stewie huffed and extended a hand, rotating his wrist in a careless gesture. "An invaluable life lesson, I'm sure. Knowing how to properly sport one of these demode contraptions. Does it make any difference? There's no way to wear one without looking like a dork, is there?"

They'd begun walking again, and Brian took Stewie's hand.

"It's something like the difference between knowing your ass from a hole in the ground or not."

"It's called a _fanny pack_! And yet the _pack_ doesn't go over your _fanny_?"

It was only a short stroll to the museum cafeteria. As it came into sight, Stewie realized for the first time that he was quite hungry. He rubbed his rumbling tummy as the dog paid for two buffets. Then he patted the fanny pack and informed Brian,

"This better not count as that one souvenir you promised me! Mark my words, there will be hell to pay if my memento is to be this crime against fashion that I didn't ask for."

Brian chuckled and rolled his eyes, giving his assurances that Stewie would still have an item of his choosing.

They both appreciated that several of the buffet lines had counters that were at child height, a nice touch for the type of museum. They loaded their trays and then found seating at a corner table at which to enjoy their international cuisine.

Brian munched a gyro and Stewie started in on some Swedish meatballs and for awhile, there was a comfortable silence. When it was broken, it was just by the dog making some light, polite luncheon conversation.

"So. Kid." He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "How are you enjoying the museum so far?"

"Oh, quite a bit!" Stewie responded brightly, swinging his legs back and forth under the table. "Top drawer effort at child entertaining, Bry. Even for _this_ child." The baby jerked a thumb at himself, even while, at the same time, his brain played catch-up for one of the first times ever. It played catch-up to his mouth, and the diminutive moniker that had just slipped out of it.

' _Bry'? Huh? Have I ever called him that before?_

Brian didn't outwardly acknowledge anything unusual, only nodded with a smile and replied, "Good." He then got up to make a return trip to the buffet line and sample some more world cuisine.

Stewie's stepdoggy came back scoffing that the cafeteria's Italian selection was just pizza and lasagne, and they shared a quip or two about over-simplifying and lack of authenticity, Brian promising- either seriously or jokingly- to take Stewie to the Olive Garden next time."

"Actually," the canine mused, "doesn't Lois really like that restaurant? Maybe we should make a date night of it." A look of optimism, subtle, but unmistakably _there_ , came onto Brian's features, and it made his baby companion cringe a little bit. To think that maybe the dog's day wasn't really good until he thought of Lois.

"What," Stewie found himself laughing before he'd thought it through, "for you and Lois or for you and me?"

"Oh, ha ha," Brian stated, rather than chuckled, not looking at the boy, but at the slice of rather mediocre-looking pepperoni pizza he was bringing up to his mouth.

"Indeed…" Stewie giggled nervously, bewildered by the apparent tracks his trains of thought were taking today. What fantastical, rollercoaster twisty turns, loops, and plummets of terror had his brain constructed in the wake of last night? Because that had to be it, didn't it?

The child decided he'd take his turn carrying his tray back to the lines of food and reloading it, if mainly to gain some space. While helping himself to a falafel, he turned and looked back to the table, watching Brian with a long strand of cheese connecting his mouth to the slice of pizza. Stewie rolled his eyes at how foolish his stepdoggy looked.

 _Can't take you anywhere, can I?_

Brian's jaws snapped forward at the cheese repeatedly, like when his teeth chomped at the wind while he had his head hanging out the window. Stewie erupted into giggles as the strand of gooey cheese snapped and Brian pulled it in with his tongue.

"Young man?" It was a woman's voice squeaking at him condescendingly much like Lois's was wont to do. Stewie turned to his side and the unknown female bent toward him and asked in a saccharine sweet voice,

"Are you doing okay, little guy? Did you need help with something?"

"Just maybe a little help finding people who can mind their own business," Stewie muttered, giving her the cold shoulder as he turned away and started back to his table. "Sorry I was blocking the way to the moussaka. You do look like someone who enjoys her potatoes."

* * *

"A time machine? No, it's really not," the boy jeered, idly spinning the wheel on the abomination of a contraption before him. Brian looked on, and then joined him on the little platform attached to the machine, where visitors were meant to navigate their "journey through time". He pushed the button to start the timer for a picture, and he and Stewie both smiled cheesily as the camera flashed.

"Well, no, of course not," said the dog. He retrieved the photo they'd just taken and handed it to Stewie. "Actual time travel's just the stuff of science fiction right now."

"But not for much longer," his youngest stepchild informed him, zipping the new photo into his fanny pack. He then looked out toward the screen positioned ahead of the platform. With the Providence Children's Museum's erroneously named time machine, visitors could turn a wheel to select different eras throughout American history, and then see footage about scientific achievements of that age play out on a video screen.

Stewie's time machine was going to be the real deal.

The dog's ears perked up. "Really?" He faced Stewie interestedly. "Have you heard something? Is that something you read in, like, a science journal? That they're getting close to perfecting time travel?"

"Well," drawled Stewie, leaning languidly against the wheel, "I don't know if _they_ are, but I most certainly am. I'm working on a time machine right now. I have been for some time. Just a little something to fiddle around with in my spare time."

Brian's jaw dropped, to Stewie's gratification. "W-w-wait, are you actually working on a time machine?"

The baby picked some imaginary lint out from beneath his fingernails as he answered with, "You need to work on your listening skills, Brian. They're sort of essential for a parent, wouldn't you say? Not that your wife ever learned that. But yes. That's clearly what I said. Working on a time machine. Close to finishing it."

His stepdoggy simply stared at him at first, before his shoulders were racked by his chuckles of incredulity. "Wha-what? Almost...almost finished? With a _time machine_?" His expression said that he didn't believe it to be impossible, but that his mind was still suitably blown. Stewie smiled smugly.

"You're pulling my tail," laughed Brian with a blend of cautiousness and wonder.

"No," said the baby, standing up straight. "But I gladly will." He peered behind Brian, all the better to hide his face from the canine's view, after those words suddenly took on a suggestive quality that he was pretty sure would only occur to himself, but somehow, that made it all the worse.

The dog just chuckled again and backed away, and Stewie's attention was then diverted by an exhibit in the near distance. "For the time being, though, we get to confine ourselves to the journeys through time this fine place has provided. Look, Brian, a dinosaur dig. That could be fun." And with that, he toddled quickly off, with his stepdoggy following in his wake.

Stewie headed over to a section of the museum that had cases of prehistoric fossils lining the walls, but the real showcase seemed to be a giant sandbox in the middle of the floor, where, according to a sign posted, visitors could dig for their own fossil replicas. It urged them to find all the fossils listed on the diagram next to it, which showed all the bones in a T-Rex. Little plastic trowels awaited usage in a bucket outside of the "dig site", but apparently, Brian had no use for these, having already dove in, practically headfirst, and started frantically pawing into the sand.

The boy giggled and shook his head, watching the couple of other kids who were playing in the dig gape in shock at the spectacle his stepdoggy was making. No doubt they hadn't expected to see...well, most of the time, Brian could almost pass for people. Maybe now, growling excitedly and capering through the sand. Chuckling all the while, Stewie snuck over and pushed the button to capture an image of his stepfather, going dog looking for a bone.

It wasn't long before the canine hit pay dirt and came up with what appeared to be part of a tail, and hunkered down over it, holding onto it possessively, beginning to gnaw on it. Stewie flinched a little, not knowing if the dog should be doing this. However, Brian soon stopped what he was doing. He looked disappointed and confused and appeared to run his tongue around the inside of his mouth.

"What the hell? Stewie, this doesn't feel like a real bone."

The child, _tsk tsking_ , approached his furry companion. "Brian, it hardly matters. Those aren't there for you to chew on. Now, stop slobbering over that piece of tail and let it go, because I've got yours." So saying, he gave a tug to the little white tail above his stepdoggy's...posterior.

Brian made an animalistic, offended noise, dropping the fake prehistoric find from his jaws and turning to look at the child. After a beat, he sighed resignedly. "Sorry. You're right. You're right." He put up his hands and backed away from the fake fossil. "It's just...sometimes those urges get the best of me, you know?" He chuckled sheepishly, before pointing accusingly at Stewie. "But you. You crossed a line, too, kid. No yankin' on that." And seeing as how Stewie had let go of him, the dog started to wander away from that exhibit, and so did the baby, after a moment.

In short order, with not much else to look at, they wandered into the gift shop, and Stewie felt his eyes alight at the prospect of getting to pick out something with which to commemorate this day of bonding for a stepdoggy and...son (Stewie inwardly shivered, the thought feeling no less wrong than usual).

"At long last, the prize shall be mine!" he declared, scurrying about the shop and looking at all the museum merchandise. "What's a reasonable spending limit, Dog? A hundred smackers?" he teased. _Like there's anything in here even_ _ **worth**_ _a hundred dollars_. "Or do you think we'll return home and find your wife has blown a bundle on buying expensive beauty creams?" He half-smiled, as though carelessly. He gave his hand a nonchalant flip, not looking at the canine. "You know, to keep her true, hag identity under wraps? So you continue believing she's still hot enough to trade sexual favors for keeping her saggy ass afloat financially?"

Dead air. The gift shop seemed eerily quiet for an unsettling amount of time. But unsettling why? Since when did Stewie worry about Brian's reactions to any shots he fired at the dog or his pathetic, farce of a life?

"What...what the hell, Stewie?" The mutt didn't even sound angry, mostly. His voice was fairly quiet, enough to be heard across the gift shop, but it seemed to hold...was that?...disappointment, more than anything else, coupled with a little shock. Which was preposterous. Stewie shouldn't be able to shock him anymore, should he?

 _Come now, Stewart,_ he was suddenly saying to himself. _There was the time machine...and I'm sure there are a couple other recent developments in your life Brian would be surprised to learn about. Or at least one._

"Damn it, why am I snarking to myself?" Stewie wondered to himself in a whisper. Brian was at his side, then, and if that dog didn't hear him, he probably at least saw the blush Stewie was pretty certain was on his face. Though, Brian likely misinterpreted it.

"Well, you should be ashamed of yourself." There was that note of shock again. The two of them stared at each other, and it felt to Stewie like they'd been doing that a lot lately, "I feel like we talked about this." Strangely, Brian spoke with little conviction, and his eyes were round and slightly startled, boring into Stewie's own. They held eye contact in this moment when Stewie wanted eye contact perhaps less than he ever had in his life.

"Can you please just stop making disparaging remarks about my marriage?" Ordinarily, that would have come out as more of a demand than a request, despite the 'please', but a notion struck Stewie just then, as he looked at his stepdoggy's face. Brian the aspiring authority figure was gone for the moment, and they were almost equals again. This wasn't about a conflict between stepfather and son; this was a brief moment of understanding between friends.

This was an acknowledgment, however subtle, of Stewie being right about _something_. Of course, that didn't mean Stewie was going to honor Brian's request. He just couldn't, even if he wanted to. Before, he'd promised to make it easier on the dog by not allowing his hatred of the union to dominate their daily lives, but that didn't mean he'd _never_ say a _single critical thing_ about the whole damn thing.

He turned away from Brian. Luckily, he turned right toward a distraction.

"I'm getting this coloring book," he announced, swiping it up off a shelf and without waiting for a response (or a demand that he answer the question), the baby scuttled toward the cash register. He wasn't just looking for an opportunity to be evasive, however; the coloring book really did look like a good one, he thought, running his fingers over the glossy cover.

The cover had, in its background, several of the exhibits he'd seen here at the children's museum: the so-called "time machine" and the plasma globe, to name a couple. Up front and center, the largest picture was of a T-rex skeleton. Stewie idly petted the dead dino's tail as he waited at the register for Brian.

* * *

In about a half an hour's time, the pair arrived back at home, after a mostly silent return trip. Stewie had spent that time simply staring out the passenger side window, clutching his new coloring book, lost in his own head. He'd been so caught up in thought that he only just barely registered the car stopping after it pulled up in the Griffin house driveway. Brian parked the car, and the child jumped a little in his seat when he suddenly felt the dog's paws reaching over to unbuckle him. He groaned inwardly to himself before turning to address the canine, hoping to play it off.

"Well, today ended up being rather enjoyable."

He smiled.

"Thanks for the trip."

The dog instantly smiled back, though his eyes made it clear that he was a tiny bit surprised.

"Oh, well, no problem, kid. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. I actually had a pretty good time, too."

Satisfied but not really wanting any prolonged interaction, at the moment, the boy simply nodded as he turned and exited the vehicle. Brian was quick to catch up, making it to the front door first and opening it just as Stewie stepped onto the stoop. They made their way into the living room, and in no time at all, Meg and Chris were rushing towards them from the kitchen and upstairs respectively, voices meshing into almost incoherent noise as they addressed their stepfather simultaneously.

"Brian, I need to know about a book that Mr. Herbert recommended. I think it's called A Photo of Doctor Grey. He brought it up after mentioning something about wanting me to look young forever, which was a little weird, but it's supposed to be good. Do you know it?"

"Brian, Mom said I could cook dinner tonight. I found this new recipe in the cookbook, but it seems a little complex. I can handle it, but I might need a little help. Do you have time to come in the kitchen and help out? It's for a chicken dish, sounds delicious."

Stewie watched as his stepdoggy's eyes widened.

"Whoa! Whoa! One at a time, people."

He held out his hands, keeping the kids at bay as he stepped to the side, away from the door Chris and Meg almost had him pinned against.

"Chris, you go first."

Meg frowned, huffing as she folded her arms over her chest, but Stewie paid this no mind. The dog was obviously going to be occupied for a while, so he figured he might as well just head up to his room. Chris and Meg's issues held no interest for him, anyway.

Once in his own little semi-private corner of the house, the boy's mind began to wander back to his concerns from earlier in the day.

 _Oh… Right…_

The infant sighed. No longer was he safely distracted by amusements such as the museum and travel games. Now, he knew he had to deal with his response to last night's other little "amusement". There had to be a way to nip this whole thing in the bud. While last night had most surely been...enjoyable...he couldn't really say he was able to look back on his actions fondly. It was too weird. _SO_ weird to be having such thoughts and feelings towards...Brian for Christ's sake! No, he needed to know more. He needed to understand these responses better. Maybe they were even treatable.

Stewie rushed over towards his laptop sitting on the little plastic table by the window. His mind was already beginning to dwell on what he'd seen Brian doing last night, and the activity below his waist spurred him on as he set down his coloring book and opened up his web browser. He began typing in the search bar.

 **My best friend got me hard.**

After hitting the search button, several results popped up.

"I let my best friend fuck me and liked it. So what?"

He read the first result out loud and instantly flushed.

"Oh...my…"

His thoughts trailed off, but luckily, it didn't take long for him to hit a wall.

"Wait."

He laughed.

"That...that wouldn't even work. We're both dudes."

He scrolled past that result, hoping to find something more helpful.

"Want to have sex with my best friend. No. Best friend got me pregnant. No."

He continued to scroll through results until finally finding one that looked promising.

"Saw my best friend naked, and now, I can't stop thinking about him."

The infant nodded in approval before clicking the link.

"Perfect."

His eyes scanned over the forum page that popped up. The original post told a fairly innocent story, not quite that similar to Stewie's own but it was a close enough situation. Apparently, this male person hadn't caught their male friend pleasuring themselves but simply caught them coming out of the bathroom after a shower. Their response was incredibly similar, however: thoughts being consumed by what they'd seen, pleasuring themselves while thinking about it, imagining intimate situations between them, the occasional unwanted stiffy. This person seemed just as confused as Stewie, and they claimed to be straight, having never had such thoughts about any other male. In comparison, Stewie knew he had never given sexual matters much of a thought. It was simply a process for baby-making. He'd felt romantic feelings here and there, found certain individuals attractive in a fairly chaste way...including a few males, but as an infant of style and taste, he appreciated anything that was good-looking.

He shook his head. That was beside the point, though. Here was someone suffering from a similar situation. Time to see what others had to say about it. He read over a few responses.

 **Give the friend some space. Maybe you need to take some time away from your friend. You obviously don't want to have these feelings, and unless you do, and don't feel like revealing them would hurt the friendship, try distancing yourself from this person. This should distance you from your feelings, too.**

The child rolled his eyes.

 _Wow. Thanks. Distancing myself from stepdoggy is totallllly an option._

 **Every time you start to think about your friend, try to focus your attention on somebody else. (Concentrate on how you're attracted to somebody else, and fantasize about them instead.) It should work if you're not really attracted to your friend.**

Stewie didn't want to be fantasizing about anyone! And, besides, even if he did, who would he fantasize about? He gave this question some serious thought, and honestly, couldn't come up with a single person who got his...motor running like the dog was suddenly able to.

 **Don'y ignore the frend, juzt only talk to him about manly things.**

The child's eyebrow quirked.

 _Manly...things? Right._

He moved on to the next one.

 **DON' BEE A HOMO! LULZ**

"Don't be a moron."

 **I don't feel like I have enough info to comment. Details please? How close are you n your friend? How old are you two?**

 _Don't see how that extra info would help. Thanks for your non-comment, though I do wonder how amusing it would be to respond with an age of one if this were my thread._

 **MAKE UP TO $10,000 A MONTH FROM HOME! ASK ME HOW!**

"Money is the least of my concerns, thank you."

 **Don't sweat it, it's no big deal. You saw something you shouldn't, and it turned you on, but you're probably only thinking about it so much because you're trying not to. It doesn't necessarily mean anything. :)**

 _That...doesn't help at all. Emotions don't just mean nothing!_

 **I think you need to take some time to figure out you're sexuality.**

 _I think it really should be waaaaaay too early to have to worry about such things._

 **Iz youre friend hawt?**

He paused, actually stopping to give this question some thought.

 _Well...for a dog...maybe._

 **As a professional in a branch of psychology, it's my personal recommendation that you don't ignore these feelings. Repressing such strong emotions as these can be detrimental to one's mental health. It can lead to depression and other emotionally damaging mental states. I would advise that you talk to someone about how you're feeling, someone you know you can trust. If at all possible, just be honest with the friend. Just be open and honest with them, yourself, and how you're feeling. I wish I could help more, but a lot of this is going to be on you to assess for yourself. If you give us a status update later, I will gladly continue to offer whatever assistance I can. Good luck. I hope you're able to find the answers you're looking for.**

Ah. A professional. Well, the advice didn't seem all that bad, really. It didn't really help Stewie much, though. He had no intention of repressing his emotions, per se. He just wanted to know...what to do about them. Why they started. What they meant. How to keep them from intervening in his day to day life as it seemed they were bound to. It could just be a phase. He hoped it was a phase! But, right now, it was quite the pressing issue. And, who did he have to talk to about them? Brian was completely out of the question. Oh, dear lord, how he knew he couldn't bear that! The only other friend he had was Rupert.

He looked over at the bear sitting by his toy chest.

And, as good a friend as Rupert usually was, he wasn't really the best at giving advice… He was more the strong and silent type.

The infant sighed and shook his head, moving on.

 **Wear a rubber band around your wrist and pop yourself everytime you start to get aroused by those thoughts.**

This suggestion puzzled him.

 _Uhhhhh...ok. Sure. Why not?_

 **yike! tough luck bro! Lololo**

And with that last douchy response, the baby decided he had read enough for one night, as he slammed his laptop shut. He reached up and rubbed his temples, feeling both frustrated and a tad exhausted. He decided he could use a nap, but first, he had to take care of one thing.

 _Where would I find a rubber band?_

* * *

As he was waking up, he wasn't sure if those gentle hands moving over his body existed in real life or if they were the last fading impressions of his dream. When Brian's face came back into view, that didn't clear matters up at all, but then Stewie realized that he was in his crib and not on that old couch in the basement, and he was still wearing his fanny pack. That last part, Brian seemed to be doing his best to change, as Stewie's stepdoggy was currently fumbling with the fanny pack straps. All at once, the day at the museum came back to the boy, and he'd returned enough to the waking world to speak.

"Hey! Hands off! Why are you raiding my fanny?" he asked, swatting at the canine's paws.

Brian reeled back, looking blank at first, and then sort of frustrated. "God, Stewie, why you gotta- why you gotta…" He shook his head. "There's a 'pack' in that term, you know. Why are you dropping the 'pack'?" Without waiting for an answer, he resumed unbuckling the little bag from around Stewie's waist. "I just wanted to put your photos in a safe place. They're still in here, you know. Anyway. It's time for dinner, kid."

The infant watched Brian finish detaching the fanny pack, before unzipping it and taking out the small stack of souvenir photos from the museum. His stepdoggy then walked over to the corner of the room, and seemed undecided on what to do with Stewie's new possessions before ultimately placing them on a bookshelf. Stewie, meanwhile, was sitting up in bed, yawning and stretching.

"So did you and the elephant girl end up cooking, then?" asked the boy. As he spoke, he happened to glance down at his wrist. He spotted the rubber band and, with a quiet sigh, looked over to his stepdoggy.

 _Well, I've certainly earned a hearty snap after that last dream, haven't I?_

He wouldn't do it in front of Brian, however, and so he let the canine lower the crib bars and lift him up and out of bed. "Meg and I did end up making dinner, yes. It's a new chicken dish." He started to carry Stewie from the room. The baby rolled his eyes, out of Brian's field of vision, once he realized what was going on.

 _He didn't try to tote me around_ _ **once**_ _while at the museum, but now, of course, being my friend once again takes a backseat to being my parent, because lord knows, what would I do without my stepdoggy?_

Downstairs, everyone was already assembled in the dining room. Meg had just brought out the main course, proudly presented on a platter which she placed in the center of the table.

"Pan seared chicken in riesling cream sauce. Prepared by Brian and yours truly."

The redheaded wench lifted a wine glass in Meg's direction in a toast. "Well, I definitely appreciate the riesling, so there's that."

Brian chuckled dryly as he was getting Stewie situated in his highchair.

"Heh heh...save some for me now, Lois." But he sounded rather dispirited, if Stewie's ears weren't deceiving him.

As had become the norm, Stewie's attention remained fixated on Brian as the dog took a seat by his mother. The child barely even registered the meal being dished out, didn't even notice the plate with small bits of cut up chicken being placed in front of him by his sister. Brian looked tense, a far cry from the comfort he seemed to be in while they were out earlier. The boy smiled slightly.

"Need mommy to help feed you, my little man?"

And, then immediately shot a scowl at the woman sitting across from him as he defiantly stabbed a piece of chicken violently with his fork and shoved it into his mouth.

The family lapsed into quietude for several minutes, the only sounds coming from the sounds of their chewing and the clatter of silverware on plates. There was also the repetitive sound of Lois setting down her wineglass a little harder than necessary- which she did frequently, as she was drinking like a fish that night. Stewie knew he wasn't the only one noticing. Brian kept giving her uneasy looks. He seemed to want to say something, but apparently kept failing to come up with anything.

"Well, how does everyone like- " Meg started to speak, with a gleeful, flagrantly leading tone in her voice as she leaned her elbows confidently on the table, but that was at the same moment Brian became unstuck, conversation-wise, and ended up talking over her.

""Hey, so guess what I saw? _Grease_ is on T.V. tonight. What say we make it a family movie night?" He smiled around hopefully at the others.

"Uh, I think I already saw that movie on the internet," said Chris, laying down his fork. "Is that the one with the orgy that-

"You see grease every morning on your pillow from where you put your disgusting face," said Stewie, cutting him off, not in the mood to listen to stories about his brother's self abuse.

"It's a musical!" Brian quickly added. "A classic. How about it? It should be- it should be kinda fun, right? Summer won't be here much longer, so it's kind of perfect. You'll see when you see the movie. I guarantee you kids will be singing along before the night is through." He put on his most charming smile and leaned toward Lois. "And- and maybe your mom and I will end up doing our own version of 'Summer Lovin'', too. What do you think, Lois?" He elbowed her playfully, and Stewie pushed his spoon meaningfully down his own throat for emphasis as he loudly gagged.

Again, the bottom of the wineglass audibly struck the tabletop. "You've sure got a one track mind, haven't you, Brian?"

The dog looked at her unamused expression, and honestly looked flabbergasted for all of a second. Then, he dipped his head, and looked back up at her with wildly apologetic eyes. "I- I didn't mean- Lois, I genuinely meant...I literally meant a duet. Singing!"

"I'll sing with you, Brian!" Meg piped up.

"Like hell you will," Stewie snapped, having already had it with this family tonight. The break he and Brian had from them earlier now only served to emphasize how tedious and maddening things were in the thick of the Griffin family.

Brian just shook his head and sighed while Lois glared at him through the narrow slits her eyes had become.

"Whatever you say, Brian," the hellish harpy stated indifferently, starting to rise from the table, throwing her napkin down in the center of her plate. She picked up her wine glass, though, and the nearly-empty bottle, evidently to take with her.

"Oh, come on, Lois, don't be that way," Brian pleaded, looking rather pitiful.

"You didn't like the dinner, Mom?" Meg asked.

"Asking all the important questions, Meg," muttered Stewie, spearing a small chunk of chicken with his fork.

"Meg, I never praise anything else that you do, so this should come as no surprise," replied Lois lifelessly…

 _Well, if only "lifelessly"..._

His mother shuffled out of the room, and Brian hesitated before getting a fuck-it-all look on his face and announcing,

"Don't take it personally, Meg, your mother is clearly smashed."

"I say, this family has really gone to the dogs," Stewie quipped, hoping to make stepdoggy feel better with a laugh, but after waiting expectantly, he got gypped out of the reward his joke was due when Brian only looked at him tiredly before resuming eating.

"Seriously? I thought that was worth a chuckle, at least," the baby remarked, feeling quite stubborn. "No, but Bry, really, if you'd prefer she wasn't just figuratively 'smashed', just say the word."

"Stewie-" the canine broke out his scolding voice, but then it gentled, and he turned to the baby and said lowly, "Just give it a rest right now. Please?"

The boy, appreciating that Brian had made it a point to address him privately, just nodded.

"We'll watch _Grease_ , anyway, if you kids are still interested," stepdoggy told the Griffin brood, chasing the scraps of his meal around his plate with his fork.

* * *

Ordinarily, _Grease_ might have been just the sort of movie to capture Stewie's interest- it had catchy songs, and while the gang of young bloods Danny ran around with weren't intimidating at all by today's standards, there was something...charismatic about them. But after they provoked thoughts of Brian in a leather jacket...thoughts that made Stewie feel funny enough to snap the rubber band...he found himself again lost in a reverie about all the feelings people shouldn't be feeling for others in the house.

 _Lois shouldn't be acting like such a cold, wasted bitch. She has it luckier than she knows. But Brian, the poor damned fool, shouldn't be in love with her in the first place. What's so special about her, anyway? Apart from her being quite the worst person in the world._

 _And_ _ **I**_ _...well,_ _ **I**_ _shouldn't be fantasizing about my very own stepdoggy._

 _Stepdoggy loves Mommy… Mommy pretty obviously doesn't love Stepdoggy...and I evidently lust for Stepdoggy. Perfect. Just perfect. If it wasn't time to get_ Springer _on the phone before…_

"It would be so cool if our school put this on next year!" Meg squealed, utterly enamored with the film. She turned to her eldest younger brother. "Wouldn't it, Chris?"

"What are you talking about? We don't go to the same school?"

Brian facepalmed. "Uhhh...remember we've been talking about this, buddy? Getting ready for high school? So yes, come September, you will be at the same school as Meg."

Chris looked at him, blinking blanking. "Oh, yeah," he said at length. He gripped the sides of his head. "Life is so confusing!"

"Hmph. Tell me about it," Stewie muttered to himself. "Small potatoes, Chris. Small potatoes."

"Nobody better find out that you're my sister, Meg," Chris warned, crossing his arms. "Or else my social status will tank."

"How can it, when it's already at zero?" Meg spat back.

"Negative one. Ever heard of it? Good to know the quality of the schools I'll eventually be getting into," Stewie stated with a roll of his eyes.

Brian shook his head. "Kids. Kids. This is such a dumb, juvenile fight. It's beneath you. Leave it alone." He sank back further against the couch as though in exhaustion.

"Hey!" Stewie protested, more an automatic impulse than anything else. "Who are you to say...I mean...Mr. High Horse…"

"Sheesh is that comeback falling apart," Brian interrupted with a snort, after the baby trailed off, unsure where he wanted the insult to go.

"Oh, don't be petty, Brian." He batted his hand at the dog, somewhat ashamed of himself for his temporarily weak quipping skills, but unable to resist getting back into his own head and setting up camp there. He didn't really want to interact with anyone right now, and wasn't sure why he'd even been responding to Chris's inane comments. Even though he hadn't sentenced himself to any kind of punishment for behaving out of character while in the grips of his mental distress, he snapped the band again, anyway. Already, the sensation was becoming less than bothersome, and that, too, was annoying.

 _SNAP!_

He glared down at his wrist, at the soft red imprint. Stupid family. Stupid feelings. Stupid dog for making him feel new feelings. Stupid _Grease_ for not helping. Stupid thoughts about Brian in the basement, or maybe sitting on a motorcycle, and…

 _SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!_

His member gave an unmistakable jump, and Stewie felt his eyes widen in bewilderment as he let out a quiet groan.

 _What the...fuck?!_

From his place on the floor, he let his head loll back against the sofa behind him as he squeezed his eyes shut in frustration and listened to the ninnies in the movie croon about Sandra Dee, and he thought about how well and truly screwed he was.


	8. Chapter 7: Uncomfortably Numb

**Chapter 7: Uncomfortably Numb**

All he could do was let his mind wander and fantasize.

"I bought one vehicle here several years ago, and I was really happy with it. Sold it to my worthless brother-in-law. Boy, was that a mistake. Got stuck tooling around town in my wife's rinky-dink little compact. Hit a guardrail last week- I think I mentioned?- and the thing crumbled. But before that, it had this problem...let me tell you about it…"

The voice of his customer was becoming a relentless drone. He might as well have been a pesky mosquito buzzing around Brian's head. The dog focused on an invisible spot of nothingness over the man's shoulder as he felt himself zoning further and further out.

There was a palm tree in the corner by the door to the dealership. Brian thought about how nice it would be to escape to a beach somewhere, lie on a lounge chair with a margarita...or two...or three. Sunshine and relaxation, like Sean got to have when he was on vacation. Of course, now Sean was on a permanent vacation...at least from the Hummer dealership. Brian wondered if he was any happier now.

"And it went.." The customer was still talking, Brian tuning back in long enough to catch the man contorting his lips grotesquely to flap about like a horse's as he proceeded to make a kind of whinny that made the canine wince. Shrill, but also like the horse had swallowed a bag of gravel. "That kind of a sound," the customer said about the hideous noise, and made it again. "Do you know- "

"Well, um, no, I'm not a mechanic," Brian hurried and interrupted him, forcing a cheerful, half-apologetic smile. "If you want, maybe I can find someone you can consult- "

"No, no, it doesn't matter so much now, does it? I mean, out with the old and in with the new. That crummy little car is gone, anyway. But it goes to show, you need an American car that's built like a brick."

 _Oh, god, why must all my customers break out this American supremacist stuff? I mean, I suppose I should expect it by now, but still._

 _Back to the beach._

Brian let his mind drift again. Normally, he'd fantasize about Lois being there with him, just rocking the _hell_ out of a sexy little wet swimsuit, but this time...he was alone.

 _Heh. Matches how I feel most of the time, anyway._

But in his fantasy, being alone didn't bother him. Right now, it seemed like nothing would put him more at ease than to be able to catch a break in his own little paradise somewhere. Alone with his thoughts and his dreams, and nobody placing any kind of expectations on him, other than himself. He could do whatever he wanted, drink from sunup to sundown, maybe even finish that novel he'd been working on…

He couldn't do either of those things right now, however. To his slight embarrassment, the customer had caught him spacing out, and somewhat sharply prompted him with a question that needed answering. It did, at least, turn out to be an easy sale after that. The man had made up his mind before he ever entered the dealership.

That put him just below his goal for the month. While Brian was a little proud of himself for making what he saw as a very respectable amount of sales, he knew that Paddy, that demanding little troll, still wasn't seeing him as a success, and wouldn't, probably until he was making enough sales to cover both his goal and what the absent Sean's had been, or some other impossible thing.

As if to illustrate his point, Paddy then came walking by, and placed a bobblehead on Brian's desk.

"Uh...what's this, sir?" Brian asked when his boss didn't immediately explain.

"I just saw your sales total move. Since you sold two Hummers today, you earn a prize." He flicked the bobble's head. "It's part of our incentive program for this week, so enjoy. But don't get too cocky! Corporate's still breathing down my neck about sales numbers, and it's- "

"Ah ha ha," Brian laughed halfheartedly, unable to stop himself from making a weak joke. "So what else is new? When is corporate not breathing down your neck, sir? Greedy bastards."

Paddy plainly didn't see, or refused to acknowledge the humor in the situation. Both of his eyebrows shot up. "Pardon me?"

The dog coughed out an awkward chuckle. "Well... just...I'm sure you're sick of it, right? But hey, what's more American than corporate greed?" He held up his paw for a high five, but Paddy, of course, left him hanging.

"I see you're trying to take over from my rotten nephew and be the office smartass now," said Paddy, crossing his arms over his chest. It was amazing how such a little man could be so imposing. His head barely cleared the top of Brian's desk. Of course, Brian was one to talk…

"If you're so eager to imitate that deserter, you'd be better off making up for the loss in sales he cost us when he took off. Less jokes, more work." And with that, the detestable little worm strolled off.

Brian sighed deeply and out loud, feeling like banging his head on his desk. "Fuck you very much," he growled under his breath, and seized the bobble head, contemplating hurling it across his cubicle to its destruction. He looked at his so-called "prize".

"Mr. Hummer." The dog read the figurine's name out loud in a monotone. "Hmm. Wait until I tell my cousin Jasper." He sat the bobble head back down on his desk unharmed but still very much unappreciated.

 _Is this a dog's fate? Am I doomed to always get the scraps from life, and never anything more satisfying?_

The bobble's head jiggled ignorantly from beside the clock, which, thank merciful christ, said that his shift was nearly ended.

"Well, it's getting to be about that time…" Brian reached for the phone and dialed his home number. If Lois didn't answer, then she was out, and it would be Brian's job to pick up Stewie from preschool on his way home. That was the agreement. However, if she _did_ answer, then she may or may not be too busy to get Stewie.

She answered.

"Hello? Brian?"

"Yeah, it's me." He tried his best to inject a note of cheerfulness into his voice. "How've you been, honey?"

"Oh, you know. Same old, same old. I can go get Stewie, if that's all you wanted."

 _If that's all I wanted? You know all that I want, Lois, and…_

But before he got started down that track of thinking, he allowed himself to process what his wife had just told him, and realized he was disappointed.

"Oh… Okay…"

"See you at home. We're having tuna noodle tonight." And without anything further to say, apparently, Lois hung up the phone.

Brian did likewise, and then stared at it in its cradle. "Well...shit."

He could've used Stewie's company this afternoon. Some of the kid's irreverent attitude would have been a nice contrast to his workday of self-important dickheads taking themselves too seriously.

Not that he wouldn't get to see Stewie later, but the whole family would be around. Chris and Meg with their demands. And Lois, who would either freeze him out, or treat him with the kind of cordial detachment reserved for minor acquaintances.

Sometimes, Stewie seemed like the most self-sufficient and supportive of them all. The goddamned infant of the house.

Of course, Brian knew it was wrong to reduce Stewie to merely being "the infant of the house". That was as unfair as anyone considering Brian to be no more than "the family dog".

He was more than that now than he had ever been before. A husband and a stepfather...no matter how much trouble he was having filling either role.

Brian started to pack up his things for the day. Gathering his briefcase and setting his fedora on his head, he headed over to the time clock to punch out. After he was officially no longer on his company's precious time, he found his Prius looking distinctly out-of-place in the parking lot of the Hummer dealership, and climbed inside.

 _Time for the lonely drive home to see...my loving family._

Brian's feelings were kind of sunk for the evening, as far as he could tell. He flipped on the radio, moving the dial around in search of a moody rock song to suit his temperament. Nothing emo or anything like that, just maybe something classic…

After searching for a few seconds, he came across the local classic rock station.

"Ah, there we go. Some good ole Floyd."

He turned the volume up, blasting it as he pulled out of the parking lot, losing himself in the hypnotic drone of the music as he proceeded down the street.

" _Come on, now._

 _I hear you're feeling down._

 _Well, I can ease your pain,_

 _And get you on your feet again._ "

He reached the point where he would have turned to go to Stewie's school. Through the fog of ennui that Pink Floyd had brought about to soothe the frustrations of the workday, he once again felt a bit let down.

 _Oh, well. It's not like the kid's going to be happy to see Lois, but he'll deal. I'm sure I'm not exactly Father of the Year to him yet, or anything._

It was hard to be a parent to Stewie. That was the thing. It was no doubt difficult for Lois, too, when the child acted up, which he did frequently, due to his irrational hatred of her. Brian faced a unique challenge, though. It wasn't just stepping in as "stepdoggy" as Stewie sometimes mockingly called him. It was stepping in as someone who had previously, predominantly, been the baby's..friend.

 _And you know what? I think I_ ** _still_** _want to predominantly be his friend. It's not like he actually needs parents all that much, anyway, right?_

Brian was, frankly, shocked at the turn his thoughts had taken.

 _What? No. That's not true. He's still helpless in a lot of ways._

The canine shook his head. He was overtired and having nonsense thoughts. Yes, Stewie was a genius baby, but he wasn't an adult, and he'd gotten to a pathetic place if he was going to pine for a baby's company in every low moment. No doubt, finding the proper balanced approach he needed to take with the kid would be an ongoing struggle.

Having acknowledged that, he allowed himself to once again get lost in the music and tune out of his worries.

" _T_ _here is no pain, you are receding._ "

* * *

"Brian!"

"Brian!"

He walked through the door, and first Meg, then Chris, bolted up off the couch and rushed over to him.

"Brian! I found this recipe- " Meg held the cookbook in her hand and practically waved it in the dog's face, before Chris cut her off, shoving her aside and shouting,

"Brian, I need your help with something!"  
"Hey, I was here first, Chris, back off!"

"In a minute, kids!" Brian raised his voice enough to talk over them, but tried his best not to sound annoyed. "Can I get to the kitchen first? I really need...I'm really thirsty."

"Mom's always thirsty when she gets home, too!" cried Chris, unhelpfully not getting out of his way. Brian sidestepped his large stepson and then his stepdaughter, and made his way across the room and then into the kitchen.

He opened the refrigerator and took out a Pawtucket Ale. He twisted the top off and took a long sip. _An ole bottle of suds._ At least he could come home to this.

As far as beer went, he liked it, but this wouldn't even be his first choice. He'd always drank it because Peter did, and after Peter passed...Lois just continued to buy it. Practically every shopping trip. She didn't even seem crazy about it herself, so maybe it was there because Brian was expected to pick up the habit. Well, more than he ever did.

He heard the kids start to cry out again in the living room, and between their plaintive exclamations, he pinched the skin between his eyes and prepared to head back in there and delve further into his home responsibilities. However, before he could take a step away from the fridge, he realized they weren't currently demanding attention from him, but from Lois, who had just come in the front door.

She dismissed their pleas much as he had, and soon entered the kitchen with Stewie in her arms.

She looked a little brighter-eyed today, and didn't even greet him with a frown, and Brian couldn't help it. His tail started wagging. Stewie, on the other hand, _did_ look rather grumpy, but that was to be expected, given who'd picked him up from preschool. Brian was happy to see the baby, as well as his wife, and smiled warmly at the two of them.

"Hey, guys! What a sight for sore eyes, after a long day!"

"Hi, Brian," said Lois, while Stewie mimed a sarcastic little wave, knowing he wouldn't be given an opportunity to talk. "Everything going good?"

The canine shrugged. "Oh, fine, fine. My boss is a jackass, but I knew that from the start."

"Oh, no," Lois crooned sympathetically. "I hope he hasn't been giving you too hard of a time." But before Brian could go on about his day, she had gone and changed the subject. "Bonnie came over today and had coffee. We hadn't been able to do that for awhile. We had a really nice time. It's like things went right back to being normal... Between us, I mean. I told her she should come over after dinner, and we'd have a glass of wine and visit."

"Isn't she still pregnant with that kid?" Brian asked, brow furrowed.

"More preggo than spaghetti sauce," Stewie chimed in.

"It's one glass of wine, Brian," Lois said, deadpan, daring him to say anything further.

Brian really, really doubted it would only be one glass of wine, but frankly, didn't care enough to argue. "So...okay. She'll be stopping by around 7, 7:30?"

Lois nodded. "And I'm gonna start dinner right now." She looked to the infant in her arms. "Do you wanna take Stewie upstairs while I do that?"

"Sure," Brian agreed with a shrug, and his wife bent down and passed the sulky child to him. While she was kneeling down to his height, Brian took the opportunity to press a kiss to her cheek. She smiled at him slightly and patted his head before standing again.

The dog took the baby through to the living room, where Meg and Chris immediately accosted him again.

"Brian, my recipe- " Meg started, but Brian stopped her.

"Your mom's doing dinner tonight, Meg. You can go ask her if she needs any help. We'll do your dish tomorrow. I'll help."

Chris burst out with, in the usual frantic manner he adopted when he needed something, "Brian, I have a really big pimple on my left butt- "

"Alright!" Brian quickly shouted over him, cringing at the mental image, while Stewie shuddered and yelled,

"Uuuggghhh! So much for dinner!"

"It's just a pimple, Chris," Brian told his elder stepson. _Boy, being a parent really does mean helping with things you'd definitely rather not help with_. "It'll, uh, probably go away on its own, but why don't you, er, take a shower tonight, and then put some acne cream on it, if you have some."

"I can borrow some from Meg," Chris declared confidently, while jabbing his sister in the ribs with a pudgy finger. "She buys hers in bulk." He laughed hysterically at his own joke.

Meg gasped in offense and slapped his hand away. "Oh, yeah? You gonna borrow a bra from me, too, fatass?" She poked him sharply in the chest. "I'd say you're a B cup already."

"At least I have titties!" Chris shrieked.

"Oh, dear lord…" Stewie muttered, facepalming. " _Zing_ , Chris."

"Chris, don't say titties," Brian scolded without conviction, already on his way toward the stairs. He'd had enough of this. He left the teens to squabble on their own, and all the way up the steps, he could hear them exchanging potshots with each other.

He got Stewie to his room, and shut the door behind them. Stewie had already begun to squirm as soon as Brian crossed the threshold, so the canine let the child down right away. He watched as Stewie proceeded to stand there awkwardly, like a host unsure of what to do with a guest in his personal domain.

"So...uh...work sucked today?" the boy finally asked, and Brian was surprised, but a little flattered, that he was actually being given an invitation to vent further.

Now that he had it, however, he found he didn't feel like dwelling...much.

"It kinda always does," the dog chuckled wryly, scratching behind his neck. "It's just that Paddy- that's my boss- seems to expect me to do the work of two people, now that Sean's left."

Stewie nodded as though in understanding. "Oh…" The child paused for a second, eyes focused on the ground before looking back up again. "Well...don't let him work you too hard..."

They locked eyes, but only for a moment., before Stewie trained his eyes back on the ground. The dog had to smile to himself, appreciating the sincerity that must be making the usually flippant child feel awkward.

"Thanks, Stewie. I'll try not to."

A silence settled on them, and suddenly Brian himself was feeling a bit awkward. Falling back on the social niceties, he decided he might as well return the favor, and asked his littlest stepchild,

"How was preschool today, Kid?"

Stewie looked back up at him and shrugged. "Oh, you know. More insults to my intelligence by forcing me to sit in a circle and sing the _Barney_ song and then listen to a stimulating lecture on the different days of the week. Did you know this is Monday, Brian?" He widened his eyes as though fascinated. "Because I sure didn't!"

Brian snorted. "Trust me, I definitely knew it was Monday."

"And it's one out of seven days!" Stewie went on, throwing up his hands like he couldn't even deal with his 'newfound' knowledge. "Whaaaaaaat?!" He slapped his hands against his cheeks like the _Home Alone_ kid.

The dog couldn't help but laugh. "You're blowing my mind with all this, Stewie. They're really laying some advanced knowledge on you kids, huh?"

Stewie grinned. "What can I say? They must think we're really good at using our noodles to give us these lessons so early on."

"School's certainly more difficult now than when I went."

"Oh, yeah? And where did you go to school when you were a puppy, Brian? St. Rover's School for Gifted Little Mutts?" The baby smirked.

"Well, I was certainly gifted," Brian said, smiling proudly. "I mean, I can talk."

"And work at a Hummer Dealership," Stewie snarked, though more playfully than contemptuously.

Inside, Brian felt a genuine pang of sadness. "Ouch", was all he said, smile not faltering.

Silence again, though it was brief as Brian decided to suddenly change the subject.

"Well, anyway, what have you been getting up to recently? I haven't seen too much of you over the last several days, not since we went to the museum about a week ago."

The child's eyes widened ever so slightly.

"Oh, you know, I keep fairly busy. Inventions to design. Places to go. People to see."

Stewie chuckled. Brian's eyebrow raised suspiciously.

"Going where? Seeing who?"

The infant rolled his eyes and batted his hand.

"Oh, jeez. It's just an expression, Bry. I assure you my life is quite dull most of the time. No need to be so possessive."

A pause.

"I mean protective! No need to be so protective. I can take care of myself, Stepdoggy."

"Um, okay." Brian didn't know how to take the toddler's panicky outburst, but brushed it off. There were many things Stewie did that Brian didn't understand. "You can't blame me for asking, though. Kinda my job. Plus...well, I would hate it if anything ever happened to you." The dog went for a casual shrug, but was feeling curiously self-conscious, and knew the gesture probably came across as such. "I mean...you can be a little pain in the ass, but I'd miss you, kid."

Stewie looked at him with an inscrutable expression, but the little 'o' his mouth momentarily formed seemed to express surprise. Then, his expression changed to at least somewhat pleased, as he smiled a small smile.

"I don't think a stepfather is supposed to call his stepchild a pain in the ass."

 _Though I'm sure plenty of them do_ , thought Brian to himself. Out loud, he said, "The rules are different for stepdoggies." He pulled a dry expression.

The boy only blinked at him in response at first. Then,

"I see. Well. I may need a copy of this rule book for stepdoggies, as it seems the guidelines have the potential to be rather complicated. I would've thought, though, that your situation was maybe a bit too unique for you to have forebearers who would've seen the merit in authoring such a book. And yet I know _yours_ wasn't the paw that held the pen. You don't finish books, do you, Brian?" He finished matter-of-factly, despite the inquisitive head tilt.

"I...I finish _reading_ them…" The words were out of Brian's mouth before he could resolve not to say anything pathetic. He shook his head resignedly, figuring he'd wasted enough time upstairs. "You know I'm making this up as I go along, Stewie." He took a step toward the door. Then, a sudden impulse had him reversing his course and going toward Stewie instead.

He dropped a kiss on top of the child's head. Because it felt like the stepdoggy-type thing to do.

The canine turned, then, and started again for the door. He looked back before he left, and caught sight of Stewie, now standing over by his bookshelf, taking down the coloring book from the children's museum.

* * *

Brian sat bent over his cup of coffee in the kitchen, listening to the activity in the next room.

Dinner had been a non-event, pretty much the same as always, with nobody seeming to have much interest in what was going on with him, but with Chris and Meg interested in his capacity to give permission for certain things. However large that capacity was. He again tried to lobby for Meg acquiring ownership of Peter's car, and was briskly put in his place by Lois. However, he was successful in giving Chris an hour past bedtime to watch a movie he really wanted to see.

Apart from going frigid during the car discussion, Lois was actually a little more...lively at dinner, than she usually was. She talked about taking the kids back-to-school shopping and about a soap she'd watched that day. She even let Brian hold her hand for a short time, and didn't have a drop of alcohol to drink.

Of course, that had since changed.

The raucous laughter in the next room was starting to grate on his nerves. Brian was pretty sure they were more than _one_ glass in. They'd been giggling like a couple of vacuous sorority girls (and he should know; he'd dated a few) for almost two hours now. With nothing much to do, he'd come down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and to try and read a book. It beat sitting in the living room with his wife while she was getting hammered with her friend, and Brian no longer liked to spend much time in their shared bedroom when he wasn't sleeping.

It was almost impossible to concentrate on his book, however, and he wondered how much longer Bonnie was planning on staying.

A part of him was glad that Lois seemed happier and more carefree than she had in a long time. But a bigger part of him just wished she would shut the hell up.

When would he be within his rights to go and ask them to keep it down, because he had work the next day?

He shut his book, seeing no point in making any further effort with it. Almost as if on cue, he then heard Lois hollering for him, her speech slurred slightly.

"Hey! Hey! Briiiaaan! Where's my dog husband?"

Brian frowned and hopped off his chair. He made his way to the living room to find the women lounging around on the couch.

"Yeah? Lois, you needed something?" He attempted to keep at least some of his annoyance out of his voice. "Boy, it's…" He checked his watch. "It's getting kinda late, isn't it?"

"Only for b-b-babies and squares!" Lois sputtered with laughter. "But t-that's why I need ya to go and put Stewie to bed."

Brian gave a beleaguered nod. "Uh...sure. Sure, Lois. But, listen...I have work in the morning…"

Lois's words completely blew past Brian's remark. "Brian. Birian. Can we- can we talk later? Bonnie was in the middle of the most amazing story."

"So l-l-like I was saying," Bonnie began to recount, "at first I was rweally skeptical about onliline dating. But after my niiiight with Pedro, whoooo, lemme tell you!" And she lifted her glass in a toast while hooting with laughter.

Lois joined in, which rankled Brian all the more, although he couldn't totally explain why.

Bonnie went on: "His body was like- "

But Brian interrupted. "Yeah, and what about your body, Bonnie? Are pregnant chicks, like, his fetish or something?" He suddenly snapped without thinking.

"Brian!" Lois gasped, looking furious at him. Bonnie looked pretty angry, too, before her eyes welled with tears that Brian would bet on being either of the crocodile variety, or due to her intoxicated state.

"I just feel so terrible that my child will never know their father!" Bonnie sobbed, laying a hand on her stomach for emphasis, while Lois leaned over to wrap an arm around her.

"What?! What does that have to do with anything?" Brian exploded, throwing his hands in the air, at a loss to make sense of this situation that was going from bad to worse with shocking rapidity. "God! I tell you- I tell you… Women! Women, man!"

"What is that s-s-susposed to mean?" Lois demanded, while Bonnie continued to cry obnoxiously.

"Nothing." Brian shook his head, giving up on this particular social interaction and deciding to call it a night. With any luck, he'd successfully broken up the party. Even if he _had_ gotten his wife pissed at him. "Nothing at all. I'm going to go put Stewie to sleep now. Goodnight."

He stomped up the stairs, his mind troubled and his mood sore. He didn't care that he'd ruined Lois's good time, no matter how wrong that may be. He needed just one harmonious evening, dammit, was that too much to ask?! He hadn't had a good time in forever, either, and certainly it wasn't unfair to expect his own wife to help him with that, at least a little. In any case, she shouldn't actively be making his evenings _worse_ , not when he had to spend his days toiling away at a business that violated his ideals.

And getting no respect for it, at that.

He sure as hell wasn't going to feel bad for upsetting Bonnie, who was over here telling tales to his wife about sleeping around with himbos. Brian's paws reflexively formed fists at his sides as he neared the top of the steps.

 _Tramp. Like you can just go out and replace a husband with the nearest-_

But that train of thought was uncomfortable, and he stopped it dead, as his stomach gave a lurch, as though in disgust. Just _what_ exactly it was disgusted with, however…

The dog reached Stewie's door, which was closed. He realized he was breathing rather heavily, and took a few seconds to calm down before he put his paw on the doorknob and let himself in. He discovered the baby sitting on the floor, in front of a dollhouse with an array of plastic dolls surrounding him. Stewie was already dressed in pajamas, which Lois had put him into after dinner.

The child appeared to be making two of the dolls have a conversation with each other, but Brian didn't get to catch any of it before Stewie noticed his entrance.

"Good evening, Brian. Rude of you not to knock," the tyke scolded blithely, and stood up from the floor. "Did the shrew send you up here? Couldn't be bothered whilst in the midst of her drunken capers?"

Brian could've corrected Stewie's disrespectful attitude, but chose not to bother. Instead, he just agreed, in a vague way. "She's...yeah. Rather, uh, preoccupied."

"Those two broads down there seem to think like they're in an episode of _Sex and the City_ , from the sound of it," Stewie commented.

"Did you actually hear what they were talking about?" asked Brian, feeling like he should probably show some concern about that.

"Not much, no," replied the infant, yawning and reaching his arms up above his head in a stretch. He lowered them and looked at Brian. "Something about 'big ones'. That's all I heard. Definitely not as entertaining as _Sex and the City_."

Brian felt a hint of heat rush to his face.

"I think perhaps they were casting spells. I also heard plenty of hag-like cackling. _Are_ they in the throes of some kind of supernatural transport?"

"Something like that," the canine ceded wryly. Despite himself, he couldn't hold back a smirk at Stewie's witchy remarks about Lois.

"Oh, well. As long as they leave me out of it. Wouldn't want them using me as a virgin sacrifice in an effort to reclaim their long-lost youth."

Was it just Brian, or did Stewie squirm a little bit after uttering that quip, like he, too, was sharing in the slight, inexplicable feeling of awkwardness the canine felt in that moment?

"Or something," Stewie added hastily.

"I'm not getting involved in their antics, either," said the dog. "I really just wanted a quiet evening at home, and I got, well...this. I can't wait to go to bed. Speaking of which- "

"Yeah, I know, I know," said Stewie, as Brian approached. The dog picked up his stepson, who gasped out loud.

Brian raised his eyebrows. "What?"

"N-nothing. You just picked me up really fast, that's all."

He carried the boy over to his crib to get him situated for bed.

Brian placed Stewie down on the mattress and pulled the blanket up around him. The two exchanged a smile.

"Goodnight, Kid," Brian said.

"Goodnight, Brian." Stewie had his fingers knitted together above the blanket. "I...hope you can get some good shuteye tonight." He wrung his hands together and looked away from the canine. "You did sound pretty upset before. When you were downstairs."

"Ah. Yet something else that you heard." Back when Brian was fully committed to being Parenting Manual Brian, he would have wondered if he should feel guilty about Stewie overhearing him having a disagreement with Lois. As indeed he had worried before. But now, he only gave it the most fleeting of thoughts. He was simply too tired.

"Just the general tone of your voice," said the infant with a shrug.

Brian shrugged back. "Like I said...not what I had in mind for the evening. But thanks. For wishing me a good sleep."

The child broke eye contact with him again. He cleared his throat. "Ahem. Well… You know." He broke out in another yawn, through which he spoke a few more words. "Someone's gotta look out for you."

Brian's tail wagged in response. "That's how you feel, huh?"

Stewie rolled over, putting his back to Brian, as he apparently was about to drift off to sleep. "After all, you take such awfully good care of us, stepdoggy."

Before Brian left Stewie to his dreams, he leaned over the infant and placed a goodnight kiss on the child's cheek, somewhere near his ear. Stewie made a restless little movement which made the dog think that if the boy was still conscious, it was just barely.

It didn't matter, though. Something told him that Stewie received the show of affection with pleasure, and it made Brian feel glad. The two of them had come quite a long way. Stewie had probably been the most pleasant part of his day today. And it was nice to be able to express that he cared for the child. Even just being able to carry him to bed. Anymore, Brian felt like he hardly ever got to feel close to anyone, to feel any true affection. No one seemed to really care about what was going on with him...except for Stewie.

Stewie made him feel good. He'd been downright considerate tonight, and that moment when the boy had wished him goodnight had been a real moment of connection that warmed Brian's heart. Even when things were at their hardest, when Brian felt at his worst, in this moment, he knew that all he had to do was look at this special boy to know that all his trouble was worth it. He really did love this kid.

A wave of emotion washed over the canine, and he shook ever so slightly before showing himself out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

It was his intention, at first, to go to bed. Hadn't he just been complaining about being done in for the day? However, as he passed the top of the stairs, it occurred to him to listen for any sounds coming from down below. He perked up his ears and listened hard, but he didn't hear anything that suggested that Lois's visitor was still around, or indeed, that even she was still hanging out downstairs alone.

Brian moved quietly to the master bedroom door. He found it unlocked, which was his first clue that Lois had been inside. If he needed further confirmation, though, he found it when he opened the door a sliver and saw her lying atop the covers on her bed, still in her clothes, mouth open and snoring.

Brian leaned against the doorframe, debating for a moment, before easing the door shut again and turning toward the stairs.

The dog walked down to the main floor, and from there, headed over to the basement steps. He was in need of some alone time, of a very particular kind. After having his job chew his ass all day, and then coming home to Lois's shenanigans, he was sorely in need of an outlet to relieve some stress. And only one thing would do.

Finding his way into the basement, Brian sought a box full of disregarded books and magazines that had likely been dumped down there sometime before he even joined the family. That didn't mean there wasn't a use for at least some of them, however. Some of them might even be on the newer side, since Brian knew that it had been Peter's habit to stash his skin mags down here. The dog set to pawing through the more innocuous reading material to find the girly magazines at the bottom.

It didn't take long to find the large stash of porn hidden away. It took even less time for Brian to find a magazine that looked appealing to him. He picked it up and headed for the couch. He hadn't sat down with a good dirty magazine in months. He'd pretty much been using his imagination down here, his mind usually wandering to thoughts of Lois, but...she wasn't exactly the person he wanted to get off to tonight. Nothing wrong with that, though. It was just porn. And, it wasn't like Lois actually ever helped him with such matters, anyway. Most men would have probably strayed by now, found comfort in the arms of another, but not Brian. He was better than that. He valued this marriage too much. The porn would do just fine.

With that thought, he took a seat on the couch and opened the magazine.

 _Nice._

* * *

Brian punched the time clock in lieu of punching Paddy in the face.

Another day, another dollar, another opportunity to be devalued and run the fuck over his beliefs by pushing these planet-destroying Hummers...then back up and do it again.

Today, the dealership had held a special promotional event, during which Brian had been expected to run around and basically be in charge of everything. Cook free hotdogs for the customers, hand out balloons to their ill-behaved children...oh, and try to sell cars. That, too. Plus, stand in front of the dealership twirling a sign advertising the sale, after which Paddy had suggested that they maybe needed a mascot, who Brian could play regularly.

"You could just be yourself. A dog. People love dogs."

Brian had smiled through gritted teeth at this and responded, "Well, if I'm being myself, sir, that presents a problem. I am not a sales gimmick. Dogs are living creatures with-"

"Or a leprechaun. Maybe you could be a dog leprechaun," Paddy had proposed, ignoring him. "We'll circle back around to this discussion at a later date. Now, that skinhead over by the grill looks hungry. Get him a hotdog."

Thank god the day was over. Brian wiped his brow and stomped his way out of the dealership. He had better places to be.

It was his turn to pick up Stewie, so the dog climbed into his Prius (noting before he did that the outside was a little dirty, and either one of his charming coworkers or a customer had written "pansy" in the dirt), and started the car.

"Well, looks like I need to wash this car," he muttered under his breath while driving out of the parking lot.

When he reached Stewie's preschool, he could see that the child was already standing outside, waiting for his ride. Brian reached the front of the pick-up line, and Stewie raced over to the car and pulled open the door. The dog got the baby buckled into his carseat and gave a wave of acknowledgement to the preschool teacher before driving off. By now, the staff of Stewie's school was quite used to seeing Brian. They probably were before Brian even became his stepfather, come to think about it.

"How was your day, kid?" Brian questioned as they drove along.

"Oh, please let's not go through this rigmarole of social niceties," Stewie sighed, dismissing the subject with an air of supreme indifference. "Can't we ever talk about anything pleasanter than how we spend our weekdays?"

Brian snorted. "I hear ya. Actually, since I have to work some weekends, I'd say I'm in even greater need of forgetting about how I spend my daytime hours." Well, of course he was, and Stewie was honestly a little silly to gripe as much as he did, but Brian had resolved to treat his complaints more seriously from now on, if only to promote a good relationship between them. Now, on a different note…

Just then, a thought came to him, triggered by his own choice of phrasing. "Forgetting" how he spent his days. What did he used to do about that? He hadn't been to The Clam in a good, long while…

For now, all he could say was, "Today, we had this free picnic going on outside for potential customers. I'm telling you, they had me running around kissing so much butt, my lips should be sore. I can't exactly push those Ozone-depleting death machines on the ignorant population if I have to play like I'm...like, their daddy or something, at the same time, getting them hotdogs… Stewie, are you okay?"

Stewie was looking at him with a peculiar, almost stricken expression.

"Uhhh…. Yeah. Yeah. Totally. What- what were you saying about hot...dogs?"

"Hotdogs? Yeah, we were giving away hotdogs, and I had to go around making sure everyone had one. Spacing out a little there, Stewie?"

The boy looked away, and after a moment, gave a characteristic nonchalant shrug. "A great mind is a busy one, Bry. Forgive me if I wasn't listening in rapture. It's nothing personal."

They stopped at a red light, and the car next to them started honking at them. Brian recognized one of Carter's luxury cars just before the window rolled down and his father-in-law's head popped out. "Hey, you pansy!" He was chuckling so much, he could barely get his 'witticisms' out. "How ya doing, you pansy?"

Brian lifted a paw weakly in greeting. "Hiiii, Carter," he half-groaned out. "Yeah, I know what my car says. I'm going to wash it- "

"Oh! Oh! Yeah, definitely. Gotta, gotta...get some water. Water, to, uh, put the pansy in. Because pansies need water. You…" As Carter meandered through the intended insult, he seemed to become aware that he was failing at zinging his son-in-law. "You have to- "

"Is he having a stroke?" wondered Stewie from the passenger seat.

"No telling," replied Brian, as Carter rolled up his window and then sped ahead of them the second the light turned green.

"So," began Stewie conversationally after an interlude of several seconds, "you're a pansy now?"

"Shut up, Stewie," Brian grumbled. Then, remembering that he possibly wasn't supposed to tell his stepchild to shut up, he decided to turn this into an educational opportunity. "It's not a very nice thing to do, to call someone a pansy. Besides, you don't even know what it means, do you? You also shouldn't use words you don't know the meaning of."

"Oh, look at Miss Congeniality over here, thinking I'm interested in learning about being nice," Stewie cooed sarcastically. "My preschool already tried their best with that one, thank you very much. And as for your second point...follow your own advice."

Brian looked at the child askance. "My own advice?"

"Wasn't it just last week that you mixed up anathema and antithesis?" Stewie regarded him with teasing smugness.

Brian felt his face heat up, which, fortunately, Stewie couldn't see on account of the fur, but the canine still cursed himself for losing his cool, because when he didn't immediately respond to the boy's (accurate) claim, he knew that would be enough for the child to sense his discomfort.

The baby laughed evilly, and Brian once again forgot himself and retorted,

"Shut up, Stewie. Shit! Whoops. I mean… Uh." He slapped a palm against his forehead and groaned. "Sorry. I was just trying to say, everybody makes mistakes…"

"Mmmm," Stewie hummed placidly. "Especially you."

* * *

"Lois, I just put Stewie to bed. I'm heading out for a bit, shouldn't be gone too long."

The red-headed woman eyed him curiously for only a brief second before shrugging.

"Alright."

Most husbands would have appreciated the brief, unobtrusive response, but Brian honestly found it a little annoying.

 _Not even going to ask where I'm going. What a surprise…_

No other words were exchanged as Brian exited the house and drove off in his car. He was heading for The Drunken Clam. His little thought from earlier had brought on an urge to get away to his favorite bar. A drink was nice, but a drink at The Clam was nicer. He could use some time away from home that didn't involve work or being with family, anyway. The only real alone time he'd had recently had been...well, in the basement, and that couldn't exactly be the healthiest thing in the world, right? No, a trip out by himself every now and then might actually end up doing wonders for his morale, which he knew was at an all-time low, right now.

A smile graced his features as he parked on the side of the road next to the bar. He hopped out of his Prius and briskly made his way inside. A familiar voice greeted him almost instantly.

"Hey, ya ole boozehound! I was afraid ya went to rehab or somethin'!"

The dog's tail wagged as he took a seat at the bar and responded to his favorite bartender with a laugh.

"Hey, good to see you too, Horace."

Horace started fixing Brian's usual, which an expert like him could do in no time flat. "So where ya been, Brian?" He slid Brian's martini across the bar to him.

"I, uh, I got married."

Brian took a sip of his drink and fought back the urge to release a pleasured sigh. God, he missed this…

"Well, I knew that. Everyone in town knows about the broad who married her dog."

Brian almost choked on his next sip at hearing that. A brief fit of coughing sounded throughout the bar before the dog was able to speak again.

"Well, when you put it like that..."

"Just because you're married doesn't mean you have to stop coming around, didn't stop Peter none."

The dog chose to ignore the bit about Peter as he replied.

"Just been...adjusting. Getting adjusted to the new...arrangement. Is all."

Horace nodded.

"So, what else have you been up to besides banging your buddy's widow? Her kids taking kindly to ya?"

Brian was able to avoid choking again but was still taken a little aback. He hadn't talked to Horace in forever. He'd forgotten just how...brash the man could be.

"Oh, uh, the kids… The kids seem to be handling things pretty well… I had a little trouble with the youngest, at first, but he's...coming around, I think."

Just then, he felt a tap on his shoulder, and a voice asking,

"Brian, is that you? Imagine meeting you here."

He knew that voice. The dog rotated on his bar stool until he was looking at his former co-worker, Sean, who was grinning at him lopsidedly, a beer in his hand.

"This used to be one of Brian's old haunts," Horace broke in, cleaning a beer stein with a rag. "Until he ditched us to go play hubby."

"Hey, now, I didn't ditch you, Horace," Brian objected, slowly but surely adopting the hale fellow well met demeanor that so often came over him when he was at the bar. "Just taking a little break. I'm here now, and I'll be here again. Sooner rather than later."

"Hells yeah!" Sean cheered, claiming a seat next to Brian's. "Next round is on me. You know I've been coming here for the past couple weeks?"

"Practically been living here," Horace added.

Sean let out a loud but seemingly-forced chuckle. "Ahahaha, no! No, no, no, it hasn't been that bad. You'll, uh, you'll give Brian the wrong idea, buddy." He reached over and punched Horace lightly on the forearm.

The barkeep looked at Sean, shrugged, spit on his cleaning rag, and moved to the other end of the counter.

Brian sipped his martini. "So what's new, Sean? Where ya working now?"

Sean shifted on the barstool and glanced away, shoving a disheveled chunk of hair out of his eyes. "Well, I'm...I'm working on enjoying life, Brian, I'll tell you that. It's som-something people don't do enough of." He held his glass aloft for a toast. "To happiness, wherever we may find it."

The canine obliged and tried to think of a response that wouldn't make things more awkward.

"It's, uh, it's good you've been enjoying yourself more since you left, Sean."

"Are you kidding?" Sean replied. "How could I not? I'm not working for my uncle anymore. Man, the guy's...the guy's a total, total dick weasel."

Draining his drink, Brian nodded his head firmly.

"Mmm."

He swallowed.

"Ain't that the truth."

Sean laughed.

"Ha! Knew you couldn't stand him! The man has no respect for his employees and yet expects miracles from them. You can't… You can't treat people like that…"

Brian wasn't sure how to respond to this moment of sincerity. He remembered when he first met Sean during his first day at work and how he was so sure he had him pegged as your stereotypical douchebag. Looking back made him feel guilty. Sean had his annoying moments, but there was a good guy there. He'd certainly proven that, and now, here his former co-worker was, opening up to him. He could either choose to brush the subject aside or indulge the man. It didn't take long to decide.

"Bring another one around, Horace."

In no time flat, another martini was in the dog's paw. He turned back to finally address Sean again.

"Yeah. That's just bosses for you, I guess. Some people let authority go right to their head. What are you going to do?"

Sean took a swig of beer and shrugged while wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "That's...that's the question, isn't it? The sky's the limit. The world is my oyster." Abruptly, he frowned, and slowly sat the drink down on the bar. "Uhhh...to tell you the truth, man, I am getting a little worried. I could, like, g-get another job, I suppose, but...Bry Dog? C-can I call you that? I saw it on your license plate."

Brian wasn't sure if he wanted Sean calling him that. "Uh…"

Sean cut across him, seemingly too eager to go on baring his soul to wait for an answer. "I have… My motivation is shot, alright? I-I-I've just been feeling like I need to take care of _me_. You feel me? After working for that sawed off leprechaun for _years_ because my parents thought it would- would be a good idea… And of course, after what Ellie did to me."

Brian felt awkward. Things were getting a little personal, but he didn't want to just wave Sean off. He signaled for another drink.

"Oh. Ellie. That was your ex-wife, right?"

Sean's shoulders sagged. "Yeah. That's her." He dejectedly ran a finger around the rim of his beer glass while staring into its depth. "She...she did me in good, I'll- I'll tell you."

"What...exactly happened between you two?" Brian asked, while Horace poured their refills and looked briefly with a stolid expression at yet another man spilling his guts all over the bar.

"She, uh...she cheat or something?" Brian went on, since it seemed like Sean was placing the blame on this 'Ellie' for the marriage's end.

He was surprised when, for a few seconds, Sean actually looked like he wanted to challenge Brian to a fight or something for suggesting this. "What? No, man! She w-w-wouldn't do that! She's an angel, a freakin' angel! ...I hate her. I mean...I love her…"

The air in the bar turned cold, at least that's how it seemed to Brian.

"Sooooo… What happened, then?"

Sean downed his drink in a large gulp. "You wanna know what happened?" He looked Brian square in the eye. "I wish I knew. Somedays, I t-think she was too good for me. Other days...I think s-s-she overeacteded. There was...there was a lot going on, Bry Dog. W-we're very different people, me and Ellie. Well, one- one thing… She thought I spent too much t-time and energy on that s-s-soul-sucking job. And once I called her sister a bitch. B-but she _was_ , man! And this- this chick...she'd sit all up in our apart-apartment 'til aaallll hours of the morning, crying about her ex-boyfriends, and, l-l-like...scwapbooking and shit. And tried to talk crap about me to Ellie. And Ellie, like...she's so briiilliant, you know? She was a real Reh-en-ais-sance woman, right? S-she had all these..these, like, interests that I-I...I never paid attention to them, Bry Dog."

By this point, Sean was growing teary, and Brian was growing increasingly uncomfortable. Should he pat Sean on the shoulder or something?

Sean started repeatedly snapping his fingers while moving his wrist around in a circle, apparently trying to signal Horace in one of the most obnoxious ways possible.

"S-so-oh, long story short, I guess they'd say we grew apart. But...I-I don't know. I think w-w-we just made a terr-bl mistake when we broke up."

Horace refilled the practically crying man's glass, a small groan emanating from under his breath. Brian didn't know what to say, so after a bit, he leaned over and settled on patting Sean's shoulder, after all.

"Uh… Look, hey, that really… really sucks, man. Sorry."

Sean was plainly trying not to let his emotions totally overpower him, and so sniffled several times in quick succession. (And loudly. And disgustingly.) Finally, scrubbing at his eyes, he regained some sense of composure, sighing deeply. He drank from his stein again.

"I miss her, man. Her b-beautiful mind, her beaughtiful heart, her sense of humor...her body…"

Brian's eyes widened slightly.

"L-l-lemme me tell you," Sean leaned in conspiratorially. "In bed, she'd get so crazy. This one time…"

"That's, that's alright, Sean!" Brian spoke out loudly, talking over him, almost desperately trying to make him stop. He chuckled nervously.

Sean chuckled too, but wryly. "Ah. Well. You're r-right. Lessst...let's change the subject. I don't need sympathy from the happy newlywed."

Brian's stomach lurched. He finished off his latest glass.

"Yeah… Uh, happy…"

Unfortunately for Brian, his drinking companion exhibited more insightfulness than Brian would've credited even a sober Sean with possessing. He looked at Brian curiously.

"Oh. Trouble in paradise?"

 _Paradise... Yeah, right. If it was mostly a paradise, I would gladly put up with the moments, the days, when it wasn't. But to be perfectly honest, it's more like being exiled to a leper colony._

 _Hmmm… That works in a couple of ways. Not only because it's so often difficult, but because it's kinda like I'm alone in this marriage, and Lois doesn't want to have anything to do with me._

 _I'll have to save that metaphor for my writing._

Apart from congratulating himself on his creativity, however, Brian did find a slightly sad mood come over him. He sighed and immediately felt a hand slapping him on the shoulder...hard.

"Hey, Bry Dog. Ya in'der? S-s-Suuup, man?"

Brian tried to hide his wincing as he shrugged his now sore shoulder. He finished his latest glass and slammed it down on the counter.

"Things aren't exactly...clicking with me and Lois…"

He paused briefly before deciding he might as well continue.

"Like, I love her, but she's ob-obviously having some difficulties adjusting. I guess I can't really blame her for that…"

Sean nodded his head.

"I'm sure le-wooz-ing a spouse is pretty rough. Just givit time. She married you for a reason, r-right?"

The dog looked over and noticed his glass had been refilled without him even realizing it. He took a second to gulp the refill down before continuing to vent.

"I've b-b-been giving it time, though, Ssshhean! It would be one thing if she was just a widdle distant. That I could work with. But, it's like she has no regards for how I feel about t-t-tings!"

He shuddered.

"She's not j-j-just distant. She's compwetewy c-cold most of the time, aaa and...and…"

He growled.

"A fwucking bitch to me the rest ofta time!"

He turned to Horace and shook his glass.

"I'm working my asssh off for her and that family, and I get n-no respeck in return. Would it reawy kill 'er to give me a little support? I mean, ssshhiiit…"

The glass was refilled once more, and Brian took a quick sip, trying his best to calm down.

"Shoot," Sean shook his head. "Um, that really blows, man…" He looked as awkward as Brian had felt when listening to Sean's own story about a marriage gone awry. "I, wiiiith- I wishhh I knew what to say… I'm sure there'ssa bright side somewhere, though? Right? I mean, it's a cliche...but… Hey, what about those, those kids? Yeah? Her kids? Didn't you once s-say they liked you? A-a-at least it's good for them that you're in their lives."

At first, Brian simply shrugged, but as he let Sean's words sink in, he started to feel more heartened, if only a little. "They're...they're good kids. F-for...for the most part. I-I-I think I've always loved them like they were my own. And… And- !" His voice filled with conviction. "Damn right, issa good thing I'm in their lives! Ya know, I qu-westion myself all the time: 'Am I doin' whas right for these kids? Am I, am I….but! I think I've really helped them...grow. Like...I am _raising_ these kids! And I'm doing a damn good job! ...Even with Stewie!"

Sean was now resting his head on the arms he had folded on the bar. "Isstha the baby or the- the ugly middle boy widda mustwache?"

Brian snorted his martini and immediately started coughing. When at last his windpipe was clear, he choked out dryly (so to speak), "The baby."

"Weh- well, how hard is a baby? Man? L-l-like, they're small, and...and they can't go anywhere."

The canine cleared his throat, and half-explained, "This ish, uh… This is a pretty advanced baby. J-jush forget it."

"Already forgawtit," Sean mumbled into his elbow, and Brian believed him, because his former co-worker looked like he was inches away from passing out at the bar.

"H-hey, Shhh- Sean," Brian said, with a chuckle in his voice as he shoved at the man's shoulder. "Think you can..you'can straighten up at all? I can't...I can't, like, follow ya home and help carry you in."

The dog thought he heard Sean mutter something to the effect of being fine. Brian took another drink.

* * *

Given that they closed down the bar, and Brian _had_ been persuaded to accompany Sean back to his bachelor apartment and help him stagger through the door (along with Horace, who had grumpily fallen in with the plan, if only because he didn't want such good customers getting killed on the way home), the dog got in from his night on the town quite late.

...Or early, depending on one's perspective. The sun was just starting to rise when the door slammed a little too loudly behind him.

He couldn't remember being this tired in a very long time. The thought of climbing all those stairs… His knees practically buckled just looking at them. He wasn't sure he was up to it.

He nearly ran into the coat tree.

 _For a couple of reasons…_

And he had work in a few hours. _Fuuuuck…_

The dog settled for climbing up on the sofa and curling into a ball. _Alright. Time for a power nap, then._

 _Gonna power this nap! Super-charged…_

He slipped into sleep almost instantly, and almost too gratefully, for how briefly it was destined to last.

Brian awoke to sounds of Lois in the kitchen, and the strong aroma of coffee.

And to entirely too much sunlight entering the room. It seemed to singe his sleep-encrusted eyes, and his head pounded. Groaning, he covered his eyes with his paw and thought, _I hope Lois made a fuck ton of that coffee… Cuz I'm gonna need it._

He allowed himself to stay curled up on the couch, hiding his face from the light, for about five more minutes, figuring it was the equivalent to hitting the snooze button. He'd take these measly few minutes of further relaxation if he could get them. Except they weren't totally relaxing when he knew he'd have to hop up soon with his aversion to light and loud noises, and a slightly roiling stomach.

It gave a lurch in protest the second he crawled off the sofa and stood there under the power of his own two feet. He had to do this. He had to get to work. Following the siren call of the smell of coffee- the only thing besides sleep that sounded appealing to him at the moment- he made his way slowly to the kitchen and found his usual seat.

"Coffee?" was his first, somewhat hoarse word to Lois. A little sheepishly, he added, "Uh, please, honey? I- uh, I guess I kinda tied one on last night." He forced a weak chuckle.

Lois, who looked to be in the process of setting the table, shut the silverware drawer a little harder than seemed strictly necessary.

"Of course," she said, with a note of humor in her voice, but it sounded very much like the bitter kind. "You'll definitely be needing this, then, huh?" She held up the coffee pot. "If you're going to make it through the day. Wow, that is some stamina, Brian. I had my doubts you'd be making it into work today at all." She frowned at him as she poured his coffee.

Brian tensed, but seized the coffee like a lifeline, drinking deep from the mug of searing hot liquid. He may have burnt his tongue just a little, but he almost immediately felt a bit more alert. Setting his beverage down and addressing Lois, he apologized. ...But it didn't come out as sincere as he had planned.

"Well, I'm sorry you worried, Lois."

They held eye contact for the longest time Brian could recall. He knew that she knew that he knew that it wasn't his welfare she'd been concerned about. Last night, before he left, she couldn't have given a shit less. She remembered that.

Lois finally shrugged and turned toward a cabinet, from which she pulled out a couple boxes of cereal. "It just seems a little irresponsible to me, to stay out so late drinking when you have work the next day…"

"You know how it is when you have to blow off some steam," defended Brian. He could hear movement upstairs, and knew the kids would be down shortly. "We all have our methods. I wish a spa day would make _me_ feel better, but…"

His wife slammed- there was no other word for it this time- the cupboard door shut, and he could feel her eyes on him, but refused to look up from the inside of his mug of coffee while taking another hearty swig.

"A spa day?" a little upper class British accent piped up, and looking down, Brian was somewhat surprised to see that Stewie had entered the kitchen and was about to scale the highchair and take a seat. Lois obviously hadn't brought the baby downstairs with her, so he'd gotten himself up and then down to breakfast on his own, but of course, this went unremarked on by his mother. "You can sign me up for one of those. I've got stresses like you'd never _believe_." He effeminately splayed his hands out before him for emphasis.

"Good morning, Stewie," Brian muttered to the child with as much cheer as he could muster.

This drew Lois's attention, and she pasted a motherly smile on her face as she hastened to set a bowl of oatmeal before the boy. "Here's my little guy's breakfast!"

With disgust on his face, Stewie spooned up some oatmeal and let it drip back off the spoon into the bowl. "Yummy. Did you get the recipe from that orphanage in _Oliver Twist_? Thanks so much for the gruel, mother."

Brian rubbed his forehead and reached for the plate of toast Lois placed in the center of the table.

"Well, good luck getting through the day…" Lois hesitated. " _Sweetie_." It was possibly the most poisonous thing Brian had ever heard from her, and he actually stopped, the toast halfway to his mouth. "I bet that if you make it through, you'll have learned your lesson, at least." This time, he did turn around, and she smiled at him as though sympathetic.

Something that was said at The Clam last night suddenly popped into Brian's head, and before he could stop himself, it was popping out of his mouth, "Why? It's not like Peter ever did."

" _Whoooooo….!_ " Stewie whistled under his breath. He fanned himself as he looked back and forth between them. "It's getting heated up in here!"

Lois's face was a perfect blank, so much so that the dog had to look away. Fortunately, a distraction soon arrived in the forms of Chris and Meg.

Unfortunately, they were up to the same petty teenage behaviors as usual. Worse, they were as loud as usual.

"I'M NOT TOUCHING YOU!"

Meg came running into the kitchen with Chris following behind her, finger pointed out towards her.

"Chris! Stop it!"

"Oh, for the love of god…"

Stewie's palm hit his face hard enough to make a loud slapping sound. Brian cringed, wondering if the tyke had hurt himself before redirecting his attention towards the older Griffin children.

"Really, guys?"

Meg was quick to respond.

"It's all Chris! He's been following me around like this ever since I got out of the bathroom this morning!"

"Liar!"

Brian, Lois, and Stewie all shook their heads at the children of the house. Just another day at the Griffin house…

* * *

Contrary to whatever concerns Brian might have harbored about performing the duties this lousy job required of him today, and contrary to Lois's dire warning, being hungover at the Hummer dealership actually seemed to make the day go by a tiny bit faster. If nothing else, it made it hard to put too much energy into this job he probably took too seriously, anyway. And it made it easier to feel numb.

One of his customers even seemed to appreciate his laidback sales style and became a paying customer, driving away a new SUV in practically record time.

All in all, it could've been a worse day. That is, until it reached its final ten minutes, and Paddy made a pitstop at Brian's desk.

"We've decided to go full-speed ahead on the mascot thing." The little big head tossed a pile of green clothing on the dog's desk, and with a shudder, Brian instantly recognized what it had to be.

"Wear that into work tomorrow, we'll be taking some photos," Paddy ordered, before leaving Brian alone with the leprechaun suit.


	9. Chapter 8: R&R

**Chapter 8: Revelations and Reconciliation**

 _"Hey. there, how'd you like to take a ride with me, pretty little thing?" The dog on the motorcycle revved the engine and raked a hand through his greased-up pompadour._

 _Stewie demurred, taking a timid step back. "I don't know if I dare! You have the most awful reputation!"_

 _Brian grinned toothily like this pleased him immensely. "It's well deserved, baby. Why, I'm the kinda guy who stays out all night drinking at rough 'n tumble bars."_

 _Stewie shivered. "My! Did I just feel a breeze up my skirt?"_

 _Brian extended a paw, still smiling cockily. "C'mon. You know you want to. No matter how wrong it may be."_

 _Next thing Stewie knew, he was being pulled up off his feet and was riding behind Brian, his hands clutching the dog about the waist. He could smell the leather of Brian's jacket, and felt a strong rumbling beneath his seat._

 _Soon, though, their ride through a strange backdrop of white puffy clouds, rainbows, and hearts, came to a stop._

 _"I know where we are!" Stewie announced, smoothing his high blond ponytail and looking around. "We're at the park."_

 _"Are we?" asked Brian, leaning in, with a look that was an infuriating mix of mocking and sexy, and it made Stewie gulp._

 _"Why, of course we are, you imbecile, I think I recognize the park!"_

 _"I thought we were in someplace far more...magical."_ _  
_ _And just then, before Stewie had time to do more than exclaim a high-pitched, "Oh!", that greaser dog captured his lips in an intense kiss._

 _"Oh, my…" the boy murmured when they broke apart. One of Brian's paws caressed Stewie's cheek…_

 _...while the other slipped beneath his skirt. Stewie's hips jerked and the child gasped._

 _"Why is this happening?" Stewie panted, moving against that sinful paw while it inflicted such delicious torment on him. "Why does it feel so good? Mmm! Brian…!"_

 _"It's okay," came that silky baritone he knew so well. "You don't have to worry when you're with me. Just enjoy yourself. When have I ever let you down?"_

 _"Well, I'm sure I can think of a time or two…" Just now, though, it was tough to think at all. He looked back up into Brian's eyes, and they didn't have that confident but intimidating sheen that had drawn Stewie onto the back of the motorbike. They were gentle and caring, and Stewie leaned trustingly against his biker dog._

 _"I just want to take care of you…" Brian whispered into Stewie's ear before licking it._

 _The baby shivered and clutched the canine's jacket with desperation. One of his little hands, though, then began to wander, traveling down to seek Brian's desire. The dog's words caused him to feel happy, caused him to feel bold, caused him to feel like making Brian feel good, too. He panted out words to that effect._

 _"Wanna make you feel...good...Brian…"_

 _The dog affectionately licked along the boy's cheek. "You do make me feel good, Stewie. You're my best friend."_

 _Stewie felt warm all over, including in his heart. It felt nice to know that he was cared for so much, to be sure. But as he thought about it...or rather, as he tried_ ** _not_** _to think about it, because this was the one thought that came with ease, when all he really wanted to do was let himself go, give himself to this purely physical, animalistic pleasure…_

 _Suddenly, there was a very persistent idea in his head that demanded to be vented._

 _"But I want to be your special someone, Brian!" He bucked harder against the dog's paw than he had before, as his own hand groped for evidence of the dog's need for him. "I like being your friend, but surely, that's not all there is, if- if…." He trailed off, almost crying from physical pleasure and emotional confusion._

 _"You're special, Stewie," said Brian's voice reassuringly, but it sounded like it was coming from far away. When the child looked up, expecting to see his lover's face there, instead he saw only darkness. He realized he wasn't even leaning against a solid body anymore, although he still, mercifully, felt the hand that worked him so expertly, It continued to wring from Stewie every ounce of pleasure his little body was capable of, but already, even as he neared release, Stewie felt like this would only leave him with fear and confusion._

 _"Brian? Why can't I see you anymore? I-I-I need you! Want you so bad!"_

The darkness filled in around him as he peaked, and awoke with a release of spams and tingles...and a nonsensical, fearful outburst,

"I need more! I'm a good girl, like Sandy, and I need more!"

He felt himself blush as soon as he heard himself, and he laid there, breathing heavily and embarrassed, staring at the ceiling in the dark, hands balled up in the sheets.

"Well, what the devil was that?!"

Of course, the dark gave him no answer. It was just as enigmatic as in the dream. That dream… He'd never had one like it before. Well, on the surface, that wasn't entirely factual. Ever since Stepdoggy had suggested they watch _Grease_ that one night, he'd had his greaser mutt dream about Brian maybe three or four times before. But they'd just been quick and dirty, without the presence of doubt or guilt or ''needing more'', whatever the hell that meant.

He'd always been just fancy free and horny in his dreams. The...feelings came afterward. The guilt of somehow...defiling his relationship with Brian by having these sordid dreams about him. A different kind of guilt that he didn't understand, just about fantasizing about a male. The confusion about the larger implications of that. Was he gay? What if his peculiar but all-consuming attraction started affecting how he was around Brian in real life? And, last but not least…

Just why was he, Stewie, always the girl in these dreams, anyway?

Stewie thrashed about in his sheets, crying, "Damnation!" He had a curious, scientific mind that demanded answers! And he had the brilliance to accumulate knowledge about anything! Nothing should have him this stymied!

The experiment with the rubber band had proven a spectacular disaster. He'd tried it out as a potential cure for his prematurely awakened sexual desires, and _that_ had only ended up exacerbating the problem. And creating a new one. Snapping that wretched band made him harder faster, so…. Well. He was still becoming aroused by Brian, and now, he was some kind of freak who got a jolly off of pain, to boot!

Stewie looked down at the foot of his crib, where Rupert appeared to be asleep. He was glad the bear wasn't awake to witness his shame. Oh, Rupert would have a field day with this!

The baby lay back down, and, speaking quietly so as not to wake his teddy bear, he began to innumerate his problems.

"I'm attracted to Brian. Who is a guy. And my best friend and stepdoggy. And when I dream that we're Danny and Sandy, I'm always Sandy. And when I wear a rubberband around my wrist and snap it, it turns me on. And...and…"

The epiphany hit him all at once, so he spoke it out loud while he worked it out for himself:

"Brian was...acting _lovingly_ toward me. I-I think...I think I wanted him to _tell_ me he loved me."

Stewie squirmed involuntarily, it was so horrible. Why would he have wanted such a bizarre thing? He'd always been able to take or leave- okay, mostly leave- proclamations of affection. What would Brian's have added to the scenario? Did he want to feel like he had power over Brian? The child's brow furrowed. Funny how, in his dreams, he never once had the upper hand over Brian.

He continued to lie there, mind simply running in circles. He sighed, realizing the futility in his musings before finally rolling over onto his side. It was a long time before he was able to find sleep again. And when he did, it was fitful to say the least.

* * *

The child opened his eyes, awakening from another overwhelming and confusing dream. The room was a little brighter now. He looked out his window to see the first rays of morning sunlight barely peeking out over the horizon. He couldn't hear anyone else up, so he concluded that he had been the first to wake up. He also concluded that there was simply no point in trying to get back to sleep as someone would surely be in to get him up and ready for the day shortly.

The baby yawned and rubbed at his eyes before sitting up and stretching. He looked down at Rupert who was still asleep. Deciding not to wake the bear, the infant carefully climbed out of his crib before slowly making his way over to the closet. It wasn't often that he was up before everyone else. Usually, he'd have assistance in preparing for the day, but in the rare instances where he was up first, he'd been able to quickly learn to handle all his daily preparations himself. Not that anyone ever noticed. The dimwits…

It took him hardly any time at all to get changed out of his pajamas and into his regular shirt and overalls, and once he was satisfied with his attire, he exited his room and made his way toward the bathroom. As he walked down the hall, he commented to himself.

"I must be up quite early. I don't hear anyone."

He shrugged as he entered the bathroom. The boy pulled up a little stool next to the sink and used it to climb up onto the counter where he retrieved his toothbrush. He proceeded to brush his teeth, mouthwash and floss and all. Someone in this wretched family had to give a damn about hygiene, after all. He smiled in the mirror, admiring his pearly whites before nodding in approval and hopping down, returning the stool to its place against the wall before heading downstairs and taking a seat on the couch. He'd have to wait for someone to come down and cook breakfast.

Luckily, he didn't have to wait long. He heard footsteps coming down the stairs and turned to see Brian all dressed up in his work clothes, the usual tie and fedora. He smiled.

 _God, he looks good…_

The dog stopped in his tracks, seemingly surprised to see Stewie there on the couch. The baby glanced away so as not to be caught staring. He looked back at his stepdoggy, however, when Brian said,

"You're up early, Kid. Did you sleep okay?"

 _Damn it, it's like he knows!_ Well, it turned out Stewie couldn't look at one thing for long, and could only hope Brian didn't notice how queer he was acting. The infant looked down at his shoes and fought a blush.

"Perfectly so, I thank you," he fibbed. "I merely am performing an experiment to see if that expression about being 'early to rise' has any merit in it, and might improve my general quality of life and make me even _more_ amazing." He put on his old cocky grin. "I always want to be functioning at optimal levels, Bry. Even though _my_ mediocre exceeds anybody else's outstanding. Or were you wondering 'However did the super genius manage to perform the basic task of pulling his trousers on himself and making it downstairs?'" For that last part, he attempted a Brian voice, and feared he failed miserably. The baby cringed a bit.

"And your diaper. Don't forget your diaper," Brian responded flatly. "And yeesh. There's confidence, Kid, and then there's just plain arrogance. If this latest little experiment of yours is making you more obnoxious than usual, please give it a break and sleep in every day, will ya?" He grinned sarcastically, and while Stewie was slightly offended, it also occurred to him that probably nothing in the world was as dreamy as his stepdoggy's smiles.

"Whatever. Are you making breakfast today?" The child jumped down off the couch, and he and Brian started walking into the kitchen.

"I guess I may as well. I'm up before Lois."

"That's been pretty much par for the course in recent months, hasn't it?" Stewie observed, getting himself situated, unaided, in his highchair.

"Well, I am the one who has to get up for work," said Brian nonchalantly, as he pushed a chair over to the counter in order to gain access to the food cupboards.

Stewie watched him root through the various boxes of foodstuffs. Maybe, just maybe, he turned his head just slightly at an angle and ogled the dog's caboose and that adorable little tail.

"Yes, but isn't making breakfast part of _her_ job description?"

There was a pause that went on for just a little too long.

"That's sexist, Stewie." Brian turned around on the chair and held up a box of oatmeal. "This okay again?"

The baby pulled a face. "Uuggghh...I'd prefer not. It's so lumpy and unappetizing. Where does Lois _find_ this stuff? And gray. It's also gray. I've got enough gray matter of my own."

Brian snorted. "Remember how I was talking to you about that arrogance, Stewie?"

"I do, but so bloody hell what?" Stewie asked cheerfully, swinging his feet. "I'm not going to blindly take all of your advice just because you're my stepdoggy."

Brian alighted from the chair and shrugged his furry shoulders. "That's alright. Nobody else in this house respects what I've got to say. Why should you?"

He didn't say it in a tone that begged for sympathy. But even though Brian resisted using a woebegotten voice, Stewie sensed enough to withhold a riposte of any kind. He watched the canine go get some ingredients out of the fridge. The hapless family man preparing to make the household a hearty breakfast.

 _Pitiful…_ But it wasn't thought with much, if any, disdain.

"At least…" the baby had spoken without meaning to, and once he caught himself with his lips moving, didn't really know where he was going with the whole thing.

"Brian, you know I respect you more than I do anyone else under this godforsaken roof." He said the words very quickly, with careful lightness in his voice, but he hoped the dog knew the weight that they carried. Even if the other members of the Griffin family _had_ set a low bar for respect…

"And," Stewie went on, returning fully to joking mode, "you cater to me better than anyone in the house, too. So that's gotta count for something." He grinned smugly.

The dog barked out a laugh and set to work on a batch of pancakes.

"I wasn't exactly setting out to be your lap dog."

The child flushed, but responded with a smirk.

"Oh, come on. You should be honored I would even want you as my lap dog."

The canine simply shook his head as he began stirring some pancake batter.

"Whatever you say, Stewie. Whatever you say."

And that was that. The two continued to enjoy each other's company in a comfortable silence as Brian cooked the family breakfast. As he was finishing up, Lois and the kids finally made their way down into the kitchen. Pancakes were dispersed, and it was a surprisingly low-key meal. Well, low-key for the Griffins. Meg and Chris still did their usual bickering, and Lois basically ignored Brian, not that he was saying much to her anyway, much to Stewie's approval. Breakfast came and went. Chris and Meg went back upstairs, and Lois went to watch some early morning television. Brian finished up cleaning the kitchen and, then, helped Stewie out of his highchair.

"Alright, Kid. You all set for preschool?"

The infant nodded.

"Yeah. I just need to grab my bag. It won't take long."

Brian waited as Stewie made his quick trip upstairs and back, and without another word to the woman on the couch, the two of them exited the house together.

* * *

Half the day was already gone. It would only be a few more hours before it was time to leave, and right now, it was free-play time, a time for all the little preschoolers to amuse themselves with the various items and toys that were made available to them in the classroom. Stewie was off in his own little corner with some dolls and a box of Mega Bloks. He was attempting to construct a fortress, but finding the various pieces he needed was proving more difficult than he liked. Still, what he had managed to construct was quite impressive...well, for any normal child of his age. He could have put this structure together in his sleep, honestly. He had successfully constructed two walls just over his own height, with the help of a nearby chair. The front wall even had a door that kind of worked, just had to be careful when using it to keep the walls from falling apart because fuck Mega Bloks.

 _Blasted things come apart too easily…_

Despite the frustrations, the child pressed on, using this latest task as a way of keeping

his mind occupied. All day he had been mulling over thoughts of Brian, and how that damn dog made him feel. The whole lusting after Brian thing was still an issue, but in a way, he had kind of gotten used to that alone, even if it was extremely difficult to act normally around that...dreamboat sometimes. At the very least, Stewie had a good grasp on those feelings. He had the hots for Brian. That part was simple, nothing he could really do about that. People liked what they liked, after all. But, there was still something more going on that seemed to evade him no matter how long or hard he focused on the matter. The wanting and simple longing for stepdoggy were simply the surface of a larger and deeper pool of entangled and mixed emotions that he was beginning to fear were simply too complex for even his big brain. A thought he originally scoffed at because nothing should be too complex for him, dammit!

The infant slammed a block into place hard enough that the wall he was currently working on wobbled. His heart stopped briefly as he waited to see if it would fall. When it didn't, he mentally facepalmed at his own carelessness. His distraction was beginning to fail him. He just couldn't stop thinking about that mutt! He imagined Brian smirking at him with that smug grin, and then, thought about how much he would love to slap it right off.

 _Whoa! Hold the phone, now! What?_

He took a breath, trying to sooth the unwarranted anger. It wasn't like Brian had gone and seduced him. This wasn't the dog's fault, no matter how much Stewie wanted something or someone to blame. And, besides, Brian was his friend. The odds had been stacked against him initially, but in time, Brian, out of all people, had somehow found a way to find a place in his heart. He cared for Brian, and he knew Brian cared for him, as well.

He felt a strange, almost unpleasant feeling at that thought. Almost like his stomach had done a flip in his tummy. It made him a little light-headed, so he sat down, abandoning his fortress, for now.

 _What am I missing here?_

"Oh, isn't that cute!" The syrupy voice of his preschool teacher broke into his thoughts, and the baby turned to see what insipid thing she was cooing over.

"Look at you two, playing so nicely together! You're quite a pair."

What the teacher was apparently losing her pinheaded mind over was the sight of two of Stewie's classmates, in the process of playing house or some similar form of make believe. They were using the playhouse in the classroom, with the little girl setting up a little silver tea set on the plastic sideboard. The little boy with whom she was playing took a pretend sip of tea and chewed for real on a toy cookie.

"We're playing Mommy and Daddy!" beamed the little girl. Stewie thought her name was Roxie or Trixie or some other name that would lend itself well to a future stripper.

"Awwwww!" squealed their teacher, coming near the two that were playing house. She playfully tapped Roxie/Trixie on the nose. "Does someone have a little crush?"

The little girl came around from where she was serving up her bogus tea and biscuits, and hugged onto her companion's arm tightly while still wearing a big smile. Johnny or Tommy or whatever nondescript name he had still had the plastic snack in his mouth like a dummy. Drool dripped out of his mouth and he didn't seem to understand what was being said, but his expression vaguely suggested that he wasn't totally on board with it.

"We're going to get married!" exclaimed the little girl, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, while the teacher clasped her hands together and leaned down to say something else to the two.

After that, Stewie couldn't have said what happened, because it was like the whole room fell away from him. He found himself completely and utterly spiralling into a memory, spurred on by that word: "married". _Married...married...married…_ It echoed through his mind, and suddenly, he was vividly picturing himself and Brian, at the wedding rehearsal, at the altar, Stewie teasing the groom-to-be and trying to cheer him up. And wanting, out of nowhere, to kiss him. Almost following through. Stewie all at once felt again what he'd experienced on that day. That moment of sheer wanting, that he'd justified as wanting to play a joke, or even wanting to satisfy a curiosity. Now, though, he thought he could call it by its proper name, this heart-hammering, tugging, hankering feeling in his chest. It wasn't what he thought before. It wasn't even common lust.

"Oh… Fuck."

* * *

"So, _then_ , Paddy makes me stay over almost half an hour with this stubborn customer who was obviously going to buy but kept trying to come up with excuses not to! That's why I was late. Sorry you had to wait around, Stewie, but it's really been...one hell of a day…"

The infant simply nodded his head, unsure of what to say after Brian finally finished venting out his anger over the crappy day he'd had at work. Stewie couldn't care less about Brian being late. He'd barely even noticed, anyway. His mind had been too preoccupied. It was still preoccupied, which was why he was uncharacteristically finding it hard to get words out of his mouth even though he did want to say something reassuring to the canine. It really did seem like he'd had a trying time, but he...couldn't. He just couldn't say anything. Not now.

A fact which, so far, hadn't seemed to arouse Brian's suspicion or even curiosity yet, though just before the canine switched on the radio, Stewie thought he saw him look over briefly as though awaiting a response. The child nervously glanced away. Music filled the little car- some tune Stewie didn't know, but it sounded suitably jazzy and old-fashioned to fit Brian's tastes. Sometimes, the boy wondered how his stepdoggy managed to find these stations.

Brian was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in a way that seemed a little more aggressive than jaunty. They were about halfway to home by now, and the day had clearly had its share of hardship for the both of them.

For Stewie, it had come in the form of a totally uncomfortable truth that had him, for once, counting the seconds until he was back at that house of buffoons, where he could take shelter in the privacy of his room.

He'd thought it was bad enough before, when he didn't want to spend time with Brian because it was hard to like Brian when Brian was marrying Stewie's mortal enemy. But no, it was worse when Stewie had realized that he liked the canine a little _too_ much…

"You're awfully quiet over there."

The infant jumped at the sound of his stepdoggy's voice.

"They give you too much food for thought to chew over at preschool?" Brian laughed.

Stewie forced himself to look at Brian. Forced himself to laugh in return.

"Ha! No...no. It's nothing to do with that pathetic little school, but you know...I'm always thinking about something!" He laughed again. They were only a couple blocks away from home now.

 _Good, good._

"Time machines on the brain and whatnot?" Brian asked him jokingly, though, Stewie decided that was just as good an explanation as any.

"Actually… Yes! That is exactly right, my good man! Well played, Dog! Haha!"

He knew that grin on his face was much too big and that laugh he'd yelped out was much too hearty, but maybe Brian wouldn't press the issue...maybe.

The canine looked at him with slightly widened eyes before blinking a few times, unsurprisingly noticing that Stewie's behavior was a bit off.

"Um...oookay. Listen, I'm not going to ask what kind of maniacal plot you're up to, but just try not to get too carried away." They were pulling into the driveway. "Or as your stepfather, I'll be forced to intervene." Brian cut the car off and reached over to unbuckle Stewie's safety seat.

"I assure you, there's no need to involve yourself." The baby felt his face heat as Brian's paws hovered dangerously near his crotch while working to undo the buckle. "Or with this, either." He put his hands over Brian's, intending to bat them away, but ending up just resting his own hands atop Brian's paws. "Really, you take too much upon yourself, Dog. I don't require this level of assistance, as you're well aware."

Brian looked at the boy and rolled his eyes in response, flicking off Stewie's hands carelessly and proceeding to make- mercifully- quick work of freeing the boy from his car seat. "Yes, I'm aware. So you don't have to make such a big deal out of it, do you? What are you trying to prove?"

Stewie hesitated, but didn't respond, opting instead to open the car door and jump on out, heading toward the front door of the house with Brian following in his wake.

Lois was the first one they saw when they came through the door. She was lounging on the couch, eating out of a bowl of potato chips and watching _Oprah_.

Stewie took in the pitiful sight before him and had to snort.

"You've got nothing going on," he muttered, and pattered past her, heading for the staircase that would take him up to his room, where he could, at least temporarily, lock himself away from everything.

"Next up," Oprah was saying on the T.V., "why women need to take control of their sex lives, and what can happen when they don't." The audience applauded, and Lois let out a noise that was startlingly close to a growl of displeasure. Stewie couldn't help but look back at her, which he did just in time to see her throw a potato chip at the screen, and see Brian approach her with an uncertain kind of chuckle.

"H-hey, are those barbeque? Can I get in on that?"

Whether or not Brian ended up getting any from Lois, Stewie couldn't have said, because he continued swiftly on up to his room, thinking about how much he'd love to barricade himself inside for approximately the rest of his life.

When he reached his sanctuary, he shut the door tightly behind him and at first, simply stood inside, feeling the air kind of depressurize around him as he, for the first time in too many hours, was left alone without interfering people crowding his airwaves. Too shell-shocked to even decide right away what he wanted to do now that he was "safe", Stewie was just still for a minute, taking several deep breaths.

The baby looked around his room as he gradually came back to himself. Now then. What was there to be done?

 _No reason to treat this as if it weren't a normal day…_

Stewie went to get some toys out, and it wasn't even until he had the set of family dolls laid out on the floor before him that he questioned his choice in playthings.

Picking up the doll he used for Secret Agent Greg, he unenthusiastically made it walk across the floor, knowing he meant to distract himself with playtime once again, but not knowing what exactly he wanted to have the toys do today.

"Uh, ok. Hmmm. When last we left Secret Agent Whatshisface, he'd just been captured by the evil leader of the Globablahblah who was in the process of stealing the world's water supply or some other stupid Saturday morning cartoon schtick."

He grunted, simply going through the motions of playing his game as his mind continued to wander to other matters.

 _Think, Stewie. There must be something you've overlooked. Why does Brian have your brilliant mind in such a muddle? A little crush shouldn't cause such a calamity, should it? Why, it's like you can't even function. Maybe, if you go back to the beginning, reexamining events from the time things around here turned strange..er, than normal...you can pinpoint not only why you're going through some ungodly version of early puberty, but why it's making it impossible to control your emotional state as well as creating...physical side effects._

The child glanced down at his groin, as if daring the wayward dictator to start stirring at the mere thought of all that sex stuff.

 _Okay. So…_

He cast his memory back to when Lois and Brian made their fateful announcement in the living room. He easily recalled the outrage he had felt at the time. Although he'd since gotten more used to the new arrangement out of necessity, it was somewhat incredible how fresh that anger was if he chose to focus on it. Stewie was quite accustomed to being angered by quite a few things, but he didn't like reliving his fury when it came to that event.

His hand closed tightly around the figurine that served as his super villain extraordinaire character, and he made the Globatech head yell at Secret Agent Greg.

"Did you really think you'd get away with it? Intruding upon _my_ private compound, trying to disrupt the plans I've so carefully laid, and keep me from taking possession of what I so clearly deserve?!"

"Uh...listen…" Stewie had Greg flounder trying to come up with a defense. "Can't we discuss this rationally? Mr, Globa- um...let's see, what is your name? Bob. Yeah, why not? Can I call you Bob?"

Stewie squinted at his toys in dissatisfaction. Where the hell was he even going with this? His mind once again ventured toward thoughts of his early anger at Lois and Brian. Who had he been more furious at? Well, that pile of red hair atop a mound of human refuge, certainly. He was always justifiably angry at her for something. And of course, it stood to reason that, if he regularly got mad at the two-bit trollop for not being able to do anything right, he'd be upset that she didn't even know how a widow was supposed to behave, either.

...Didn't it?

His father's face sprang to mind in the first time in forever. Stewie chewed on his lip as he mulled that over. Remembering the fat man didn't make him feel sad or happy or...anything. And now that the fat man was now the dead man, and no longer plunging the household into mass involuntary participation in his crazy schemes, Stewie didn't really feel any annoyance toward him, either. So...progress? Did that make him more like a normal person? He remembered Brian being a massive hypocritical tool and shaming him on his lack of proper sentiment. Well, it wasn't like Stewie was now mourning his father more than he ever had…

Why had he cared? For real. Was it bad mothering on Lois's part, to foist a stepfather on them so soon after Daddy bit the big one? Most certainly. And…? Again, he was used to Lois doing everything wrong. So what if it was the principal of the thing? If she was going to bring a new parent into the equation, she could've done far worse than Brian, after all, who was caring and capable…

 _But caring, capable Brian_ , Stewie reminded himself before he lost himself in useless schoolyard daydreams, **_did_** _basically betray his best friend. Maybe I...maybe I expected more from Brian, and it hurt to find out that he was doing such a shameful thing…_

That felt closer to the truth, but still not like it fully explained away his anger. So what else had happened between the day of the engagement and now? Obviously, there was the day of the wedding rehearsal… Stewie shivered. He'd spared enough thought on that today already, surely.

"I suppose that's only fair, since I call you Greg and all," he made Bob say, turning back to his toys again. "And we have been through so much together. Though you have turned down all of my pool party invitations, I suppose dicking around my private business counts for something. Before I give you what you have coming to you, let me tour you around Globatech headquarters. I'd like to show you my latest invention." He laughed maniacally in the evil Bob's voice.

Stewie hastily grabbed the dollhouse from where it was a short distance over to the side. The two dolls walked over inside, Bob of Globablahblah leading the way. Stewie needed something to stand in for the evil genius's water-capturing machine, so he grabbed a plastic bucket he sometimes used in the sandbox.

He wasn't really invested in his time in the land of make believe right now, but was doing his best to commit to the scenario. He _really_ didn't want to think about that damned rehearsal again, the critical mistake he had made there…

"Here it is, just down this flight of stairs," said Bob expansively, ushering Secret Agent Greg over to the set of steps that descended to where the bucket was waiting. He walked down ahead of Greg, and, when he got to the bottom, waited there for Greg to catch up.

Greg tripped near the bottom, and stumbled down the last step, bumping into the formidable head of Globatech, and, well...bumping his lips into Bob's lips.

"Oh, dear…"

He shifted uncomfortably at the sudden turn he'd taken with this scene.

"Is this what the young people call...HoYay?"

He dropped the dolls as if they were toxic. Even his innocent playtime wasn't safe from his prurient thoughts, it seemed. He told himself he was blocking the rehearsal out of his mind, and made himself concentrate on the next road marker of Lois and Brian's Crazy Ride to Marital Bliss.

Unfortunately, that next road marker was the wedding itself. There, he'd been subject to more disgraceful behavior from his skanky cow of a mother, including not even having the decency to pull herself together as best as she could for her own wedding. And yet, Brian had still been all too eager to go through with the spectacle, to kiss her lips and make her his wife.

Just like the old anger could come through again sharply, it turned out Stewie could also remember just how sickened he'd felt during the wedding ceremony. He clutched his stomach. It was like recalling a particularly pernicious battle with the flu. But he hadn't just felt nauseated, no. He'd felt...defeated.

 _Why should that be the word to spring to mind?_ Stewie mulled this over, wanting an answer and coming up with a blank that must be as terrifying and all-encompassing as what Chris saw when he was asked to do basic addition. If anyone were to walk into the room right now, Stewie had no doubt they'd find that he had a completely brain-dead expression on his face as he attempted to sort this problem out.

The indignity of this spurred his mental gears to work harder. _No! It's not that there's nothing here! You should know better than that, halfwit!_ He scolded himself. _It's that there's too much, and you don't want to see it! How are you going to put it all together if you refuse to see some of the pieces?_

This must be… This must be what people called being on the cusps of an epiphany. Stewie groaned. _One epiphany a day is enough..._

But that one about having a crush seemed like just a little epiphany compared with what was looming. Actually, even just realizing that there was something in his mind he was too scared to examine felt major.

 _Come on, Stewart! You're suddenly shrinking from the contents of your own_ ** _mind_** _? Look those thoughts in their cold, dead eyes and call them what they are. You've thought_ ** _plenty_** _of disturbing things? Now's not the time to be too cowardly to acknowledge them!_

Lois. He hadn't wanted Brian to marry Lois, so...of course the actual wedding day was hard on him! But...he'd known it was coming, and he still hadn't been able to hold himself together. While he couldn't really condemn himself for making a scene on _Lois's_ wedding day, he regretted marring _Brian's_. He felt a pang of remorse, as the scene of Brian taking him outside of the McBurgertown to speak to him flashed before his mind's eye. But the dog's words hadn't only made him feel guilty then, had they? They'd also made him feel...oddly flattered.

 _"I would have really liked your support."_

That's how Brian had answered, when Stewie asked what would have made the best day of the canine's life perfect.

 _I wish I could've supported you, Brian, but I make it a practice not to support really stupid life choices. You deserve better, mutt, for all your flaws. You deserve someone who didn't marry you out of desperation. If you had married the_ ** _right_ **_person, I would even have helped to plan the wedding and reception. If you had married the_ ** _right_** _person…_

His eyes widened at a sudden but natural realization.

 _...It would've been me standing at the altar with you, and not Lois._

There it was. What he'd been unwilling to see, the element which would help him piece everything together. Jealousy.

He was jealous of Lois. He wanted to deny it, wanted to ignore it now that he had called it by its proper name, but it was the only thing that made all the pieces fit. Explained the extent of his negative reactions to Brian getting closer and closer to marrying the red-headed twat.

 _J-Jealous? Of Lois?! Because of…_

He gulped audibly.

"...Brian."

It came in almost a whisper, sounding so foreign yet...right.

He wasn't just physically attracted to that mutt. He...wanted more. He coveted Lois's role as his romantic partner. Stewie knew that he had hit upon the truth, but at the same time, he was flabbergasted. All he could think was... _why?_

It went beyond just a simple crush, too: he knew that with absolute certainty. While he did think that Brian was a total hunk, and would happily giggle over finding him thus (to the nonjudgmental ears that did not exist) as much as any Mary Sue would about a random boybander, what Stewie truly craved was...to be by the dog's side in a meaningful way. ...The most meaningful way there was. But that must mean-

"Hey, Stewie, it's time for dinner."

The child nearly jumped a mile. Would his stepdoggy never learn to knock?! It was enough of a shock to the system to hear Brian's voice after...after all that Stewie had been thinking, but then he had to see that damned, beloved face pop into his room without warning.

"I believe I've spoken to you about intruding upon my privacy," said Stewie, the words sounding almost robotic even to his own ears. He was also all too aware of the thousand-yard stare on his face as he gazed in the canine's general direction. There seemed to be no way to act naturally around Brian in this moment.

 _What in the blazes, Dog? Either you're making me feel too many human emotions, or you make me forget how to act like a functional human at all!_

"Yeah, you have," said Brian, blatantly unapologetically. "But, uh...listen- are you doing alright, Stewie?"

Stewie blinked several times as he tried to get his rapidly beating heart under control and put on a cooler exterior. "What do you mean?"

The dog tilted his head slightly as he studied the baby. "Well, you look kind of pale. Maybe a little sick."

"Psshaw. Please. You just can't handle my beauty," Stewie retorted, snappy rejoinders coming back to him quicker than he would've predicted. But in this case, he felt he just may have picked the wrong one, and hurried to pivot on his foot and do a "sassy" turn, so as to have an excuse to look away.

 _Stupid, stupid!_ Willing away any blush that might be on his face, but still with his back to Brian, Stewie bent and made a show of gathering up his toys, like he was just going to casually put them away, all the while maybe listening a little too attentively to how Brian would respond to his last comment.

"Well, it's not just that. In the car…" Brian paused for a brief moment before taking a step closer. "You were acting a little...funny...even for you."

Even with his back turned, the infant could still feel the dog's presence growing closer. He could feel the goosebumps appearing on his skin.

"F-Funny?"

Stewie threw his toys into the toy chest before working up the willpower to force a smile on his face and turn around to address Brian.

"I told you, Brian, I was thinking about an invention. That's it."

He rolled his eyes.

"You just worry too much. If you think there's something wrong, there's not. Really."

Was he trying too hard to be convincing? Was it obvious how hard he was trying? That expression the dog was giving him certainly didn't make it easy to tell, and it certainly didn't help matters that he waited several seconds, just staring Stewie down, before replying.

"I feel like I know you pretty well, and your behavior is still striking me as...odd."

There was another brief moment of silence before the dog simply shrugged.

"But, if you're telling me everything is alright, I'll believe you. I'm an open ear if you do need one, though."

The canine smiled warmly at the tyke, and Stewie felt that rapid beating of his heart increase what must have been tenfold. He cleared his throat, still fighting to keep his composure.

"Everything. Is. Alright."

Brian nodded.

"Well, ok. I guess we should head downstairs, then."

The dog turned to walk away, but Stewie didn't follow, still rooted to his spot, still taking in that smile, those words. He loved knowing Brian cared.

"Thanks anyway, though."

At hearing the boy speak, Brian turned back around, an expression that Stewie could have sworn was shock on his face.

"Thanks?"

The infant couldn't help but release a small chuckle.

"For the offer. You know, being an ear and all. I mean, I have nothing to say right now, rest your pretty little head assured, but I appreciate your offer regardless."

Brian redirected his gaze at the floor as he reached up to scratch an itch behind his neck.

"Awww, jeez, Stewie, I bitch enough at you. I'd be a jerk if I didn't let you return the favor, every once in awhile."

This moment was getting too tender for Stewie's liking. Well, he DID like it. It was nice, but it was also pretty much more than he could handle. God, the way that dog could warm his heart… He chuckled again, nervously, before batting his hand in an attempt to make the mood more casual.

"Well, bitches are gonna bitch. What was that about dinner? Ready? Oh, good. I'm starving."

He even rubbed his stomach to emphasize his hunger as he walked quickly out the door, not sparing the dog even one more passing glance as he rushed down the stairs and took his spot up in the highchair.

* * *

"You need help getting changed?"

Stewie was staggered, his whole body (yes, it could literally be _every part_ of his body if he let himself dwell on that question too much) tensing with his back to Brian, as the dog shut the door to the baby's bedroom. Heat flooded the infant's face, and he didn't respond for several moments.

 _Holy crap, Dog! What are you_ ** _doing_ **_to me?!_

The child bit his lip and choked down a small, desperate sound, while he felt an invisible pressure behind him grow more and more intense. Brian's presence. His stepdoggy was approaching him.

"Um, Earth to Stewie? I asked you a question. You know, I'm trying really hard to ignore how strange you've been acting since I picked you up from preschool, but it's getting more and more difficult."

The canine was sounding concerned again. This wouldn't do. Stewie refused to accept that he was just doomed to always act awkward around Brian from this point on. He had to find some way to cope. A subject which demanded some significant thought. Unfortunately, that would probably have to wait until tomorrow. He looked out his window at the night sky. God, he wanted nothing further now except to be left alone in this room! No, he most certainly did _not_ want Brian to stay and help him out of his clothes…

...Well, he did, but he didn't. Mainly because the tease would be helping him out of his clothes only to innocently help him cover up again.

"I heard you, Brian," he said, as smoothly as he could muster. He clasped his hands before himself as though calm and in control, when really, he just wanted a very subtle way to wring them. Turning around to face his stepdoggy, he added, "We all get in these distracted moods, isn't that so? I promise you, Brian, I have nothing to tell you which you would consider worth hearing. Though, I reiterate, I'm appreciative of your willingness to let me unload."

"So...pajamas?" Brian prompted. He went over to the crib, lowered the protective bars on one side, and fluffed Stewie's pillow roughly."I can't go to bed until you do, you know, and I'm pretty tired, Stewie."

 _Damn it!_ The baby was annoyed that he'd once again needed prompting to answer a simple question. He hoped he was seeming a little more together, however.

"In that case," he told the dog, "why don't you just leave me to perform my nightly ritual solo? I don't really need anyone's assistance when it comes to figuring the complexities of footie pajamas."

Brian smiled. A peculiar smile, Stewie thought. It was fond, and that should have warmed the tyke's heart, but it also seemed rather condescending.

"Well, look at you. And you've been getting yourself down to breakfast more and more often, too. You know what I think I've noticed, Stewie? I think you've been even more determined to demonstrate your independence since I….well, took on this role."

Stewie cocked his head to one side, considering that, but very briefly. He felt like he should reject that premise.

"I don't really think that's true at all." He paused. "And please refrain from being all…" He put a generous amount of fake enthusiasm into his voice, "'...Oh, look at you doing stuff!' when it's exceedingly simplistic, mundane stuff. It doesn't reflect well on either of us."

The mutt seemed a little confused by the note of offense in Stewie's voice.

"Well...you could look at it like I've been a good motivator, helping you to grow…"

The child cut him off right there. "Oh, yes, indeed, indeed! Thank you _soooo_ much for motivating me to take my pants off!"

Brian was silent. Stewie was silent. They stared at each other, blinking slowly. For Stewie, it was like, this time, the words that had come out of his own mouth were too surreal to even be embarrassing.

"Um...right. Okay." Brian both spoke first and looked away first, while sort of idly scratching at his arm. "Anyway. You're going to take care of the pajama thing, then?"

The child groaned at both himself and the dog.

"That...that was the point, yes, but if you must remain in the room at least have the decency to turn around."

Brian looked at him curiously for a few seconds before shrugging.

"Uh, ok, then. Sure. Whatever."

The dog turned his back to the toddler, who breathed an inaudible sigh of relief that Brian had been gracious enough to not question his request. With the dog's eyes off him, he at least felt a little less...exposed, if not comfortable. Not wanting to chance Brian turning around before he was done, the infant hurried out of his clothing and quickly found and threw on his sleeper, the process made a little sloppy by his haste. He hopped around, trying to get his feet in and almost fell on his face once, and then had a little trouble with the buttons. Still, in under a minute, he was successfully in his sleep clothes and announcing,

"Done."

Brian turned around and began walking toward the boy.

"Well, ok. Great! Progress."

He chuckled awkwardly, obviously attempting to lighten the mood in the room.

Stewie just shook his head as he allowed the canine to lift him up and place him in his crib. The dog tucked the baby in, and there was another tense moment as the older just stood there staring at the younger. The child squirmed a bit under his obsession's inscrutable gaze.

 _What?! What do you want from me?!_

He, of course, didn't receive an answer to this thought. Instead, the dog just leaned in and smiled lightly.

"Goodnight, Stewie."

"Goodni-"

The child stopped in the middle of his reply as he felt a sudden kiss being placed upon his cheek. He gasped, but if Brian noticed, he did nothing to indicate such. The dog just lifted the bars of his crib in place and shut off the light before proceeding out of the room, leaving Stewie in a state of shock and slight bliss as he whispered into the darkness.

"Goodnight, Bry."

* * *

It was not a good night. Sleep eluded him for several hours. Every time he thought that he had caught it, he would begin to drift into a disorientating state of exhaustion, only to be upheaved from his semi-consciousness- possibly from the butterflies in his stomach or the weight on his heart or the pain in his head- and become completely and wretchedly awake.

 _I didn't need this. Brian...you once told me that my life wasn't so bad. Everyone treats me like your typical dumb, drooling baby with nary a worry in his life… But you of all people...you should've known. You've been more fair to me than anyone else has, but this… This isn't fair! Because I'm so different from the norm, I spend enough time fighting the way things are. But now, I need something else to set me apart?! I need to be completely over the moon for my stepdoggy?!_

Tears pricked at Stewie's eyes. He hugged his pillow close and curled into a ball.

 _Why can't I sleep?! I just want to escape! And then, tomorrow, I can work on figuring out how to suppress these godawful feelings._

When other people were in similar situations, they might not have to. They might have the luxury of waiting to see if their best friend got knocked off first, leaving an opening for them to marry the friend's significant other. Of course, Stewie _had_ always wanted to kill Lois…

Not that he wanted to _be_ with Brian. Not that Brian would ever, like, _ever_ , in a million years, in any possible existing multiverse, be interested if he did…

Stewie rolled over onto his back, casting the pillow aside. It flew to the bottom of the crib and beaned Rupert on the head. Stewie didn't even bother to apologize.

"Get out of the way, Rupert! Watch where I'm throwing things!" he admonished, before standing up and messing with the bars of the bed until they gave a click and he could lower them.

The baby jumped down to the floor, where he began to pace. If he couldn't fall into a beneficial sleep, complete with REM cycling and all, he might as well stay up and find something to do. That was his reasoning.

He should read. Yes! That would be his distraction. Something to nourish his mind, instead of putting himself through this mental anguish. Something else to focus on and think about, instead of feeling so many things. The child walked over to his bookshelf.

Brushing aside _Pat the Bunny_ and even his beloved _Goodnight, Moon_ , Stewie considered his choices. Hawking's _A Brief History of Time_? There was some substantial food for his brain. Or for fiction, short stories by Dostoyevsky? Reading something _that_ depressing would surely put his own troubles in perspective, right?

As Stewie glanced around his shelf, something caught his eye. _What is that…?_

The child reached for what looked like a short stack of papers. Once his fingers closed around them, they felt thicker than what he was expecting, and, noting the glossy finish, he immediately realized what they were. Stewie simply stood there, holding onto them, for several long moments while he hung his head and sighed.

 _Is the whole universe conspiring against me?_

Giving into some unexplained masochistic desire, he found himself taking the pictures from the shelf and walking with them over to his little orange table.

By moonlight, he was able to see Brian's face and his own as they checked out the plasma globe.

"This can't keep happening, Dog," he told the inanimate image of Brian. "I've already lost enough sleep over you. And this is the worst night yet, just because I happened to realize that I…" He caressed the canine's forehead with his thumb. "I…"

He didn't even want to say it out loud to a picture of Brian.

The toddler switched to the next photo, and let out a little laugh. He couldn't help it, when he saw how silly he looked with all his hairs- few, but luscious- sticking up. And Brian, of course, looked just like a puffy snowball. It made him look even more soft and cozy than usual.

 _It doesn't do any good, Stewie,_ he told himself. _You old fool…_

The next picture was one inside the rocket playhouse, and involuntary thoughts entered the child's mind. Thoughts like how good the two of them looked, standing side by side. In that moment, it didn't matter that the museum was full of dumbed-down science for pictures still encapsulated Stewie's two favorite things: science and Brian, and he treasured them.

Following that photo was another one inside the pretend rocket. Stewie admired it duly before moving on. He then came to a picture of Brian and him flanking a dummy mummy.

It was another fun photo, but it brought to mind Stewie's real-life dummy mummy and the rush of jealousy and frustration that then assailed him made him go on to the next picture.

Here they were, aiming wide grins at the camera while posing with that laughable imitation of a time machine. They'd been having a great time, hadn't they? How many pictures like this would be in their future? Where they were just clowning around without a care in the world? Oh, if only Stewie could go back to when he believed that mere lust was the extent of his inappropriate feelings for Brian! Who knew that was a simpler time? Stewie imagined lots of outings that would take place now- stepdoggy and stepson trips- where he wouldn't even be able to relax and enjoy the time with Brian at all. He imagined never goofing around in a photo with Brian again. He winced at the pain this caused him to feel.

He came to the end now, the last picture. Stewie wasn't in it. That felt sort of telling after the recent gloomy thoughts, but the subject that _was_ in the picture couldn't help but cheer the baby a little. It was just so adorable. Stewie was glad he'd sneakily taken this photo of Brian desperately digging away for a bone. He imagined showing it to his stepdoggy. Brian might find his own actions embarrassing and undignified after the fact, but Stewie loved how utterly without pretense Brian was in this photo. Sure, going absolutely bonkers in that sand had been a damn silly thing to do, but, Stewie suddenly realized, he loved seeing all sides of the dog, including this one.

But what the deuce did that matter?

Surely his unconditional acceptance would mean very little to the canine. It would never have the impact with Brian that the boy would like it to have. And Stewie...well, Stewie didn't want to feel this terrible yearning and devotion any more than stepdoggy would like to be the object of it.

The child had to restrain himself from throwing the pictures and scattering them about the room. He'd just get asked in the morning why he'd gotten them off the shelf and flung them around. He could only sigh bitterly, and slowly rise, steadying himself with his palms against the table. There was nothing to do but to get rid of these photos...inconspicuously, however.

Maybe he would vaporize them. That would leave no trace.

But then he reached out for them, and even though he wouldn't have thought his heart could sink any lower, it plummeted again when he was holding the pictures and contemplating disposing of them. No. He would have to settle for hiding them somewhere he wasn't bound to look for a very long time. Just like his feelings for Brian- there was no other choice than to hide them away and ignore them.

Stewie went back over to his bookshelf, his eyes searching for a book he would never choose to read for himself, as well as one any misguided family member would be unlikely to pull off the shelf to read to him. At last his gaze alighted upon a book of children's Bible stories. The baby's brow furrowed as he tried to recall from whence it came. Upon reflection, he thought he remembered it being a gift from the fat man's father, that religious nutjob who'd stayed with them for a time. Well, Mr. Jesus Is My Homeboy probably wouldn't be visiting now with his son dead. Francis despised Lois.

And so the infant stowed the pictures away inside the children's Bible book, and then just stood there in the moonlight, deliberating. He'd gotten up to find something distracting to do before he could mercifully fall asleep. Sleep didn't seem any closer now than it did when he originally got up, but nor did any of his books look appealing. It had been a brief journey to go through those photos. But like a trip to another town in one's same small state could seem lengthy when one spent it concentrating on not getting a stiffy, five minutes spent looking at pictures could seem like a lifetime when they put you through an emotional wringer.

Should he do something else? Work on an invention? Learn how to play the piccolo? Wake Rupert for a midnight tea party? Run away from home?

In the end, Stewie settled for just climbing back into his crib. He might be awake until the sun came up, but so be it. He wasn't motivated to pursue any kind of activity just then. So, he just lay there, sleepless, thinking about what a walking cliche he had become. Would he discover in the morning that he had no appetite? Well, if Lois cooked him that odious oatmeal again, then probably.

All he knew for certain at the moment was, in his case, falling in love had definitely made him unable to sleep.


	10. Chapter 9: Father of the Year

**Chapter 9: Father of the Year**

Wake up.

Look at my wife.

Still asleep.

Of course.

Get out of bed.

Shower.

Brush teeth.

Get dressed.

Go downstairs.

Stewie isn't there.

Bummer.

Start breakfast.

The day begins.

Rinse.

Repeat.

* * *

Brian was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. Making breakfast in the morning was second nature now, especially when it was something uncomplicated like today. Eggs and bacon. He could make them in his sleep. In fact, sometimes he felt like he sleepwalked through his whole day. Standing atop a chair in front of the stove, every little movement seemed more automatic than intentional, as he flipped up the corner of an egg to see if the white had set, amazed that he could make any determination at all when he was so zoned out.

When Chris entered the room with a cheerful squawk, one might think that would startle him, but the dog was pretty sure he was incapable of being surprised anymore. Of course someone was bound to come in at some point and say something in an unpleasant way. That described at least three out of four of his family members.

"Hi, Brian! Check out the new clothes Mom got me for my first day of high school!"

The dog turned around, eyebrow rising.

 _First day of… Oh shit! That's right! How could I forget?_

Ok. First day of school, high school for Chris. This needs to be a good morning, can't send him off in a bad mood. This is a big day for the guy.

Brian smiled, trying to match Chris's own enthusiasm as he also tried to make it look like he was admiring the white collared shirt and khakis the teen was wearing.

"He-ey! Lookin' sharp there, Chris! Lois picked those out, you say?"

Maybe he could still be surprised. Lois hadn't mentioned going shopping for clothes for Chris. Maybe that shouldn't be surprising, but surely, that was something worth mentioning to the man of the house. He shook his head.

 _Stop making this about you! This is Chris's big day!_

"Yeah! She said now that I'm in high school and getting older, maybe sometimes I shouldn't show up to school looking like a slob!" Chris announced cheerfully.

Brian gestured to a kitchen chair. "Well, take a seat. Breakfast should be up in a minute."

He turned back to the food, wondering how he could go about making today special for the kids. After considering this question briefly, all he could come up with was…

"Here ya go, Chris!" Brian sat the plate before his oldest stepson. Two fried egg eyes stared up at them, while bacon strips formed a crispy smile.

Chris looked at his breakfast, before asking apprehensively,

"C-can it see me? Is it alive?"

"What?" Brian sighed in disbelief. "No, Chris. No, no, no. You know it's not alive, it's- it's just your breakfast. C'mon, man. I just gave it a face, I didn't give it sentience."

"'Morning, guys," said Meg in kind of a grumbly voice as she entered the room. The legs of the chair scraped the floor as she pushed it back from the table to take a seat. Unlike Chris, she wasn't wearing a special, back-to-school outfit.

"Good morning, Meg," Brian offered. "Trusty, er, trusty ole pink shirt and hat for you, huh? No new school clothes?"

Meg smoothed her hands down the front of her usual pink T-shirt and informed Brian, "Oh, no. These are new." She pointed to her hat, as well.

The dog's jaw dropped a little as he cocked his head to the side. _Why…_

But it wasn't worth thinking about. He simply shook his head and went to put Meg's plate together.

"But what's so good about this morning, anyway?" Meg wanted to know, her voice plainly pessimistic. "We have to go back to rotten school today. Whoopee."

Lois strode into the kitchen with Stewie in her arms. "What's the problem?" She yawned, still waking up.

"Going back to that hell, that's the problem," her daughter clarified, after blinking in stunned surprise for a moment, undoubtedly over the fact that she was being encouraged to speak for once. "Why the hell should I be happy to be going back to that tortuous- "

"Meg, Meg, honey." Lois stopped her by holding up a hand. "My apologies. I thought there was an actual problem. Now, we don't need your bummed out attitude this morning. It's going to be a busy day, and there's no room in it for your teenage angst plot."

"That's right, today's all about my first day of high school!" Chris added, pumping his fist in the air. He wrapped his arm around his breakfast plate as if giving it a hug. "Me and Sheldon are going to have the best time! We're going to rule the school!"

His family gaped in stupefaction at Chris's absurdity knowing no bounds, but Brian decided to look on the bright side. For now. At least until Chris tried to take his eggs and bacon to school.

"Ha," he laughed awkwardly. "That's- that's kinda clever, Chris. Did you name him that because eggs have shells?"

Chris stared blankly. "Huh?"

"Just forget it, just forget it," Stewie advised in an undertone to Brian. The baby was now stationed in his high chair. "Cut your losses with that one and run."

Brian was a little frustrated that it seemed he could do nothing right at times, but he still just sighed under his breath as he nodded at the boy, accepting his advice. After that little moment, the dog quickly set out plates for the rest of his family before fixing his own and having a seat at the head of the table between his wife and youngest stepson. Before he could even take his first bite, however, Lois was addressing him.

"So, the high school and preschool are on opposite ends of town."

The dog turned his head questioningly.

"Uh, ok."

There was a very brief moment of silence between the two as Lois seemed to be waiting for him to come to a conclusion. She didn't wait long.

"I don't have time to drive Stewie where he needs to be AND get Chris and Meg to school on time, and the preschool is closer to your workplace, anyway."

Brian knew what she was getting at now.

"Oh! Yeah. I can take Stewie to preschool. That's no problem, honey."

He heard the sound of someone coughing and turned to see Stewie apparently choking.

"Stewie!"

He patted the infant on the back to help him. The baby seemed to flinch away from his touch, though Brian was pretty sure that was just due to the movement made as the tyke finally swallowed and breathed in deeply.

"I'm ok! I'm good! Stop gawking at me!"

The kid shouted at everyone sitting around the table who had all stopped to make sure the baby of the house was ok.

"Stewie!" exclaimed Lois, automatically lifting a hand to her mouth in concern.

Stewie still wheezed a little when he spoke, but all the same, very clearly bumbled. "Hmph. Real good on the delayed reaction there, bitch."

"Oh, my god. Brian, is he okay? Did you cut up the pieces small enough?" she asked accusingly, reaching across the dog's spot and stretching out a hand for Stewie's plate.

Brian was actually annoyed enough to nudge her arm back over to her side, albeit gently. "He's fine, Lois, it's all fine. I'm checking on it." He leaned over to Stewie, while his mind raced. His heart seemed to beat a bit faster, too. He actually _did_ have the same thought that his wife had, that maybe it was his fault Stewie had choked, and he was already feeling guilty as he examined the child's breakfast plate.

Was it his imagination, or did the child lean slightly back in his seat, away from him, as Brian moved over to look at the food?

In any case, the bits of bacon and eggs seemed to be the right size. In that case, Brian could breathe a sigh of relief and stop self-flagellating, but the dog still didn't know what to attribute the choking fit to.

His mind was taken off of it as everyone gradually finished their meals and left the table. (Chris while demanding many reassurances that it was "really okay" that he'd eaten his, and wanting to know "really bad, you gotta tell me" that he hadn't committed cannibalism.)

Brian piled the dishes in the sink while Stewie, the last one left behind, finished up his food without incident.

Once the infant was done, Brian clapped his paws together and addressed him.

"Alright! I guess I'm your ride again this morning. We can get going right now… Uh, well, just let me run upstairs and get my hat and briefcase. You want any help out of that high chair?"

In response, Stewie climbed down from the chair unaided and stood beside it, blinking up at Brian.

"I'll take that as a 'no', then," said the dog.

The two stared at each other...awkwardly. It wasn't until Stewie rolled his eyes and walked out of the room that Brian finally remembered what he was about to do. He hurried upstairs and grabbed his things before returning to meet Stewie by the door.

"Alright, then, let's head out."

* * *

"And, I mean, sometimes it just seems like none of the moves I make are the right ones, you know? Like, I know I'm keeping the family afloat, but there's always some kind of catch, something to make the things I do only half right if they're right at all. It's...really hard to describe. I just wish it seemed like I was appreciated more. Does that make sense?"

The dog looked over at the infant sitting next to him, looking for some kind of validation. He hadn't intended to go off on a rant as he drove Stewie to preschool, but he found that, as he tried to strike up some kind of conversation with the unusually reserved baby, it was remarkably easy to use the time to air out some of his grievances. Only some, though.

He would never tell Stewie about everything that was going on with Lois. That was the line. And as long as he never crossed it, it was perfectly okay to vent to the boy, wasn't it? In the spirit of open and honest communication between...father and...son.

Brian's inner thoughts came to a halt as he wondered why he was questioning their labels all of a sudden. Well, of course at the beginning, the thought of being anyone's stepfather, especially Stewie's, had seemed pretty unusual. But just now, he'd- perplexingly- hesitated like never before in using those terms in his own thoughts. Why had they sounded...a little wrong?

He realized that he'd been staring in Stewie's direction for a little too long, though not actually _at_ the baby. Better look back at the road. At least he'd evidently made Stewie _think_ he was looking at him, however, and that pulled the longest string of words out of the baby that he'd uttered all morning.

"What?" Stewie sort of hiccuped the response, as if caught off guard. "Oh! Ummm… Um, um, um… Yeah! Totally! Apprec- appreciation. That's...that's important. B-but, I wouldn't worry too much about it, man." Stewie laughed, seemingly nervously. "You're- you're great."

"Uh, thanks?" Maybe it _was_ a mistake to be opening up to Stewie like this. The boy plainly didn't know what to say to him. Actually, there was some evidence to suggest that the boy had forgotten how to talk at all. Why was he getting so tongue-tied?

"Why are you getting so tongue-tied?"

"What?" That sharp little yelping noise again. "T-tongue-tied? What do you mean? You...you crazy. You're just...one...craaazy...dog." Another giggle that sounded anything but relaxed.

The canine glanced over at the baby, who was tapping his fingers rapidly against his knees. Brian kept looking at him until Stewie noticed again, and their eyes met. Stewie's mouth fell open a bit, his eyes gone round. Then, in a split second, the child's expression changed into a scowl.

"Stare much?" Stewie folded his arms across his chest. "It's really not polite, you know. Now please. Go back to boring me to death with your problems."

Brian flinched a little, hoping the baby didn't notice. He faced forward again, wondering why Stewie was acting like this. Of course, he should know Stewie enough to know that he could expect anything from him, including, occasionally, the most blatantly disrespectful and hurtful words. But if his mind knew this, it didn't stop his heart from feeling a bit pained at being almost rebuffed by the boy's sarcastic encouragement.

It also didn't make _complete_ sense to the dog's mind, though, either. Stewie's bad mood this morning seemed to have come out of nowhere. They'd been getting along fine as recently as last night, when Brian had put the boy to bed. That was, however, after a day in which the tyke had acted sort of strange, and even though Stewie had turned down Brian's offer to be a confidante, the canine decided to offer again.

"Well...we could talk about whatever _you're_ dealing with, but you won't tell me." He tried to speak gently, but was he imagining it, or was there an undertone of accusation in what he'd just said?

All he knew was that when he looked back at Stewie, the tyke's mouth formed a thin, tight line that looked like it wouldn't open under penalty of death.

After a beat, however, he heard the child sigh.

"Because it's my problem. Nobody else's. And it's not, like, an after school special secret that I'm keeping. I'm not even up to anything dangerous this time, so I see no need to involve you."

The baby looked...vulnerable. He looked almost... Brian quickly squinted over at him. Was it...grieved? He looked kind of sad, but also like he was getting used to it. The dog frowned. Like he knew there was no use in dwelling on this thing, whatever it was...but still couldn't help doing that very thing, anyway. The type of loss that should have been on his face at his dad's funeral? Maybe, but it was hard to judge Stewie anymore. Of course he'd found it hard to relate to Peter. And right now, Brian's predominant thought was that look of remorse and resignation on Stewie's face belonged only on someone much older.

"Stewie…" Brian began, but didn't continue. He didn't have to. As soon as he started to respond, the baby turned towards him and told him all in a rush, as though anxious to stave off any concerns the canine might have to voice,

"Look. I'll tell you. I will." The boy seemed to flinch. "I'll tell you, Brian. Just...in my own time." And then Stewie looked away, out the window.

"You may as well carry on with what you wanted to discuss before," said the infant, still faced away from him. "About not feeling appreciated or whatever. I mean, if you want to. I'll gladly let you unload, Brian."  
"Well...that's getting to be a non-issue," Brian muttered, while stroking his chin in tired thought, bringing his vehicle to a stop behind another, where several cars had formed a line-up to turn the corner at the end of the block. The dog knew what he'd see as soon as the Prius rounded that corner. "We're awfully close to your school now, Kid."

"Oh!" replied the baby, sounding a little too surprised to hear this news, for someone who was staring out the window.

In short order, they pulled up in front of the preschool, creeping forward to take their turn in the drop-off line. Stewie, evidently determined to act strangely up until the very end, was fidgeting and appeared to be studying his shoes. Just as the car shifted to the front of the line, though, and Brian leaned over with the intention to reach for the buckle on Stewie's car seat, the child looked at him and said in a fiercely insistent kind of voice,

"Have a good day, Brian." And then the dog was shocked when the baby abruptly ripped him by the forearms and continued like a trainer giving a boxer a pep talk, "When you get into work today, go in there and kick some ass! You hear me? Don't worry about what happens at home."

The tiny hands dropped from the canine's arms, and Stewie slouched forward, almost leaning into Brian, and gave a sigh that sounded too big for him.

"We all need some kind of an outlet, don't we? For when our personal lives aren't going right."

It was a distinctly odd thing to say, but Brian assumed Stewie was just doing that thing he sometimes did, affecting the behavior of a much older person, who had life experiences far beyond what Stewie himself had ever had, for the purposes of sounding cooler or more dramatic or just relating to actual adults better. In any case, the kid was already out of the car. Brian blinked, and it was like the baby teleported to the curb.

"Goodbye, Brian!" Stewie offered with a wave. "I'll see you later. Remember- nothing to worry about from ole Stu! All will come right! I apologize for acting so queerly!"

Something hung in the air- a joke Brian would've made at Stewie's expense a very long time ago- and then one of the ever-patient families behind the dog honked, and Brian pulled out without uttering a word, and at the same time that Stewie seemed to realize he'd left himself open to a shot that the dog hadn't taken.

* * *

"Are you feeling lucky? Come on down, all you lads and lassies!"

For the sake of keeping his lousy job- which was the only reason he was out here in the first place- Brian tried to inject his voice with at least _some_ energy, so he wasn't using the dull tone that matched his spirits. However, he had a feeling that he still sounded obviously unenthusiastic, despite his best efforts. Also, that his Irish accent was pretty obviously bad.

The dog was standing out on the sidewalk in front of the Hummer Dealership, holding a sign that read 'Save Some Green!' while decked out head to toe in that color- all but for the red beard that was part of the humiliating getup. Every passing car seemed to contain people smirking unpleasantly at him. When someone had their window rolled down, or passed by on foot, he was supposed to say "Irish-themed" things at them to hype the business.

Most of these things came straight from the ad campaign that Brian was- ironically- the luckless star of.

"I'm Lucky the Leprechaun!" the dog, choking down the bile in his soul, announced to a man on his cell phone walking by. The man shot him an annoyed look, and shockingly, was unmoved by the pronouncement of the poor bastard in a leprechaun suit. He kept walking, and Brian sighed deeply.

"Our financing deals are like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow!" the canine yelled halfheartedly after the man.

"Yeah, you'd know about rainbows, ya fruit!" laughed a barrel-chested man in a too-tight wife beater, who was an actual customer, standing behind him in the dealership parking lot, and talking to a different salesman. Like so often at this job, Brian wanted to retort but couldn't.

What he could do, however, was speak with Paddy, who was also standing close by.

He walked up to his boss and lowered his voice to a half-whisper.

"You see, Paddy, this isn't even working! Nobody's impressed by Lucky the Leprechaun!" Afraid to criticize his employer too much, however, he added, "I think our deals and...tough...kick-ass SUV's speak for themselves. People will come, anyway! They don't need cheap gimmicks, do they?" He chuckled hopefully.

"Ahhh, c'mon, Brian, whatcha tryna pull here?" Paddy asked irritably, brushing him off. "The problem's not with Lucky. You know who it's with? It's with you."

"But I _am_ Lucky!" the dog interrupted, forcing a jokey tone and doing a little bit of a terrible, uncoordinated jig. "And I shouldn't be! I'm not the right guy for the part. See- "

"Cut the crap, Brian," Paddy injected, scowling as usual. "And work on that jig. And that accent. They're both god awful. As I was saying, you're always trying to coast by, putting in the minimal amount of effort, and that's why you get minimal results. Why _I_ get minimal results. If Lucky's not selling, it's because you're not selling him. Which means we're not selling Hummers. Now, you barely ever sell Hummers, anyway, even though you've had plenty of practice by now. So I'm going to give you today to practice being Lucky the Leprechaun. See if that turns out any better. Sound good?" The ugly way in which he smiled at Brian made it clear that he couldn't give a shit less _how_ that plan sounded to the dog.

As soon as the son of a bitch turned and headed to a different part of the lot, Brian tore off his leprechaun hat and stomped on it, not caring who was looking. A short-sighted plan, though. He really had no other choice but to return to the curb, like a piece of garbage, now wearing a crumpled hat.

And the reason he had no other choice but to take this abuse was because he had a family now. Four other people were depending on him to keep a roof over their heads, food on the table, and clothing on their backs. He was the head of a family. Hadn't that once been a dream of his?

He'd heard that reality often didn't live up to the dreams that had preceded it, but it was just that his home life had so far turned out to be... _especially_ un-dreamlike. Just as he'd told Sean, and alluded to with Stewie. But none of that mattered. What mattered was that his very-real family required him to work his all-too-real-but-simultaneously-nightmarish job. That mattered more than any dream. And, in time, maybe things would...get closer to those dreams of old.

And if they didn't...

That was pessimistic thinking. Surely things would improve. But then, Brian had never been too skilled at remaining optimistic for long periods of time. That he still believed that things would get better with his home life was a testament to how much he wanted it. ...And to how unthinkable the alternative was.

He and Lois had taken their vows. It didn't matter that she didn't exactly behave like his wife. If anything, their marriage sometimes made Lois feel further away than ever. Brian shuffled his feet sadly, looking down as he weakly twirled his sign around. Even if legally, they were bound together in a very intimate way, they'd definitely been closer friends when Peter was alive.

What if she never came around? It was almost too desolate a thought for Brian to contemplate. Would either of them ever leave the other? Right now, she was still dependent on him. The whole family was. Brian would have felt an obligation to care for them all to the best of his ability, marriage or no marriage, but since he _was_ in one with Lois, he couldn't help feeling like he was getting the short end of a stick being held by some cruel and malicious force that would never let him win this game of tug-of-war. A game that could go on forever, leaving Brian feeling...trapped.

"Yo! Brian!" A car horn sounded loudly and repetitively, and the canine, looking up, saw a dark-colored convertible cruising by slowly. "Makin' that green! ABCD!"

It was none other than Sean, leaning out his car so far he looked to be in danger of falling out. He seemed ecstatic to see Brian. Which was just probably further proof of how little he had going on in his life at the moment.

Brian cleared his throat, his voice having gone hoarse after not using it for the past fifteen minutes or so. Or maybe that combined with all the yelling at vehicles beforehand.

"Hey, Sean! ABCD?"

"Always be closing, dog!" Sean declared proudly, clapping his hands together in delight at his own cleverness. "How's it going, bro?"

"Um...fine!" Brian shouted back. "Um...hey, you- you might wanna put your hands back on the wheel, there!"

His former co-worker took his advice just in time to avoid swerving into a hydrant. Sean then pulled over and parked the car. Brian watched as the man started walking over.

"You here to ask for your old job back?" the dog asked in confusion, surprised that Sean would bother actually getting out of the car.

"Heeehhhlll to the no!" Sean laughed, coming striding over and stopping at Brian's side.

Unbeknownst to Brian, Paddy had at some point reappeared, and his voice came from behind them, sneering,

"Pfft! Like I'd ever give that traitor a second chance! Especially now that he's driving that Barbie dream car, there. Why don't you get some man wheels, Sean?"

"Go suck a fat one, Paddy!" Sean shouted back carelessly.

"Is that any way to talk to your uncle?" Paddy fumed.

"Go suck a fat one, _Uncle_ Paddy!"

"Okay," said Paddy looking rather like a little teapot about to erupt with steam, "let me put it this way: is that any way to talk to the man who has your wife's new phone number? That's what you came here for, isn't it?"

Brian looked to Sean in confusion. Sean looked to be experiencing a mix of emotions, all of which were pretty uncharacteristic, at least from what Brian had ever seen him exhibit. Sean appeared to be nervous, eager, and slightly abashed all at once.

"How does he have your wife's number?" he whispered to the man.

Sean rolled his eyes and whispered back, "His neighbor apparently does yoga with her. He's very close to his neighbor. I think they do macrame together or something."

"It is not macrame!" Paddy squawked. "It's golf! She plays at my course!"

"You have a golf course?" Brian asked his boss, brows rising high.

"Paddy Tanniger, titan of industry!" announced Sean, with a subtle sarcasm that his uncle either didn't catch or chose to ignore. "Hey, uncs, why you got Brian," he jabbed a thumb in the dog's direction, "dressed like some kind of dog-prechaun? Why don't you put on this child's Halloween costume yourself? You're short enough for it, too, after all, and I think you'd do a better job than him at acting like a manic little man desperate for gold."

As irritable as Paddy was on a good day, seemingly nobody could grind his gears more effectively than his own nephew, Sean. He became a stuttering mess for many, many seconds, before finally snapping at Brian,

"Brian! You go inside the dealership and see if anything needs attending to in there! Lucky needs to mix and mingle, not just hold a lousy sign. Leave me alone with my punk nephew to see what kind of blackmail I can use on him." The little man stuck a hand into his pocket and pulled out a little slip of paper. "For _this_." He waved the scrap of paper under Sean's nose, snatching it back just when he made a grab for it.

The dog was tired of watching these awkward family dramatics, anyway, and turned to make his way back into the dealership.

On the way, he passed many a bunch of green and gold balloons tied to posts and car antennas. Their latest sale _did_ have the dealership fairly busy that day, so, unfortunately, Brian planned on encountering some customers inside he'd have to engage.

As soon as he walked into the dealership, he was confronted with his own face plastered all over the place, practically from floor to ceiling. He groaned aloud.

 _Well,_ he thought sardonically, _I may not be getting much recognition at home, but I'm the star of the show at work._

* * *

Brian clocked out and ran out the door. He should have left thirty minutes ago, but he ended up getting stuck helping out a last second customer, a last second customer who had done nothing but waste his time since they didn't end up deciding on a purchase, anyway. He growled as he got into his car and slammed the door shut before starting the engine. Now, he was going to be late picking up Stewie...again. He hadn't had time to call and inform Lois so she could go ahead and get the kid. It's not like she was busy, after all… So, there was no point now since he'd wind up getting there before her, if she left right now. The dealership was much closer than the house.

The angry dog reached up to adjust his rearview mirror but stopped when he caught his reflection.

 _Christ…_

He hadn't even had time to change out of his ridiculous mascot costume. He shook his head and proceeded to pull out of the parking lot and onto the street. The not so lucky canine spent the entire drive to the preschool fuming. Things seemed to be going especially wrong today, and he was about at his wits end. His mind was abuzz with thoughts and concerns that he wished he could ignore. All that really mattered, at the moment, was getting Stewie and him back home. The little guy must be bored out of his mind, by now.

 _Boy, is he going to let me have it._

When he pulled up to the school, he saw Stewie standing out on the sidewalk next to a woman who must have been his teacher. The passenger door opened, and the pair gave him almost matching odd looks. Rarely had Brian ever felt so silly, but he did his best to play it off. He smiled and addressed the woman.

"Sorry for the late pick up. Got caught up at work."

The dog shrugged and forced a laugh.

"What are ya gonna do? Am I right?"

Stewie climbed up into his seat as the woman just continued to stare before responding.

"Uh, huh… Look, Mr. Griffin, this can't keep happening. Stewie needs to be picked up on time. If you're this late again, we're going to have to bring you and your wife in for a talk."

The dog could feel his blood beginning to boil. He gripped his steering wheel tighter as he tried to contain the anger swelling inside him. The last thing he needed to do was snap at this woman. Oh, wouldn't that just be the cherry on top of this crap sundae of a day… Eventually, he just sighed and nodded his head.

"Understood. Won't happen again."

The woman shot him one last stern look before looking down at Stewie and smiling.

"Alright. See you tomorrow, Stewie. Don't let stepdaddy get in too much trouble."

And with that, she shut the door and walked away from the vehicle back into the building.

There was silence in the car as Brian just sat there trying to keep his emotions in check. It was soon broken when Stewie spoke up.

"So, uh, someone steal your Lucky Charms? That what kept you?"

That remark was the last straw. Brian growled through his teeth and chucked his hat into the backseat before doing the same thing with the fake beard.

"Oh, ha ha! Very funny! You're sooooo clever! Got any more witticisms for the foolish looking leprechaun?!"

The child's eyes went wide and he flinched away. He actually looked a little frightened. It was such a foreign expression on the boy's face that it quickly snapped the dog out of his rage. He faced back towards the front, hung his head, and sighed. He couldn't help but feeling a little ashamed that he had snapped so violently at Stewie. He wasn't sure what to say next, but it was Stewie that spoke first, anyway.

"I-I'm sorry. It was just a joke. That's like… That's like our thing. Don't be mad…"

Brian turned to look at the child who still looked far too timid for his liking.

"No. It's ok. I'm the one who should be sorry, and I am. I shouldn't take out my frustrations with today on you."

He sat back up and composed himself.

"I'm not mad...at you."

He reached over and buckled Stewie in before finally driving away from the school. After a ways down the road, Stewie spoke up again.

"What are you… What are you mad at, then?"

Brian wasn't sure how to respond or even if he should respond at all. Was it healthy for him to discuss his problems with Stewie this much, especially now that he was his...step...son? The dog shivered a bit at the thought. It still just didn't sound right…

"I'm mad at...a lot of things, kid."

And, he was going to leave it at that. That had been his honest intention, but before he could even realize what he was doing, he continued.

"You already know what was bugging me about this morning. Well, compound that frustration with being forced to humiliate yourself at work by dressing up in a stupid ass costume. Oh, and how about while you're at it, throw on some general constant concern about the state of your...relationships. Add all that together and you might have an inkling of an idea of what I'm mad at."

He glanced over at Stewie to find the boy staring at him, eyes blinking slowly.

"W-Wow...sounds like you're going through a lot…"

It wasn't much but it was still something, and Brian found himself simply appreciating someone acknowledging the struggle he was going through. A small grin formed on his lips.

"Thanks, Stewie."

Things grew quiet again as they drew ever closer to their home. It wasn't until they were in their quaint little suburban neighborhood that Brian heard Stewie speak up again.

"Why work at a place where you feel like you're being mistreated?"

The question took the dog off guard. The answer to him was obvious, of course, but he wasn't sure how to go about explaining it to Stewie.

"Uh, that's just what you have to do when you have other people depending on you. I can't afford to quit or anything. Our family depends on that income to stay afloat. I do it for you guys. That's how much I care."

Silence for a beat and then a response.

"That just seems silly. I mean, you're obviously miserable there. Anyone can see that if they take the time to pay attention. You found that job. You can find another. You don't...deserve to be mistreated like you are."

The dog listened to the baby's words, wanting to take them to heart, but Stewie was just a baby. Life just wasn't that simple. He sighed.

"I wish it were that easy, kid. I really do."

Their house came into view. Brian pulled into the driveway and parked the car. He sat there for a minute, looking at his reflection in the rearview mirror before shaking his head.

"I can't go in like this. Give me a second."

His canine digits worked the buttons on his leprechaun jacket, while Stewie sat in his carseat, looking at Brian, looking perhaps confused or impatient. The dog sighed and finished taking off the jacket, discarding it in the backseat.

"I'll get you out of there in a minute and we can go into the house. Just wait."

Stewie met his eyes and blinked at him.

"Wha- ? Oh, I didn't... I didn't say anything, m-man," he laughed. "I'm in no hurry." The baby fumbled with the buckle on his carseat. "And I don't need your help. See?" After working the mechanism for a moment, it came unclasped, and Stewie looked up proudly. "If I really were that impatient to return to that house full of idiots, I could do it right now."

Brian removed his leprechaun bowtie and flung it away with what bits of the costume he'd already taken off. "Well, don't go just yet, if you wouldn't mind." The dog grunted, trying to reach behind his back once he realized his leprechaun shirt and pants velcroed in the back, and he couldn't find the right angle to undo them. "Can you…" He growled in frustration. "Can you help me finish getting this ridiculous thing off?"

Stewie seemed to have gone back into that trance-like state he'd been entering periodically since his undisclosed problem became an issue. For several moments, the dog wasn't even sure the child had heard him; Stewie looked like he was spacing out, although he was looking right at Brian. Then the baby shook his head, cleared his throat, and shrugged.

"S-sure!" he replied, with a little hiccuping sound. "No...no big deal." He chuckled and hopped out of his carseat, moving over to sit on the edge of the actual seat underneath it. Brian turned his back to the boy and gestured to the velcro closures.

He heard the familiar ripping sound of two velcro strips separating, along with a sound that came from Stewie, like he was swallowing with some difficulty.

"Are you thirsty?" asked Brian.

"What?" Small hands lightly touched the fur on Brian's back as the dog peeled the shirt part of the costume from his shoulders.

"You kinda gulped, there. It sounded like maybe you were thirsty or you have a sore throat or something, I dunno."

"Oh!" Gee, Stewie sure did sound startled a lot lately. "Well, it...isn't always easy to...swallow."

Brian's brows knitted together. Was Stewie making a joke? Surely not. A kid his age, even an extremely intelligent one, wouldn't know about such things. It was probably just another awkward instance of Stewie saying something that he didn't realize could have...other connotations. The dog rolled his eyes, and started to speak before he clamped his mouth shut, stopping himself just in time from blurting out, "Now hurry up and get my pants off." Talk about a questionable choice of words. But Stewie _was_ just sitting there, not making a move to continue helping Brian out of his absurd getup.

Okay, not _just_ sitting there. He was softly running his hand up and down the canine's back, which actually felt pretty good. It had been too long since Brian had had a nice pet. But now didn't seem like the time or the place.

"Uh, Stewie…" he prompted, and he felt the boy jump. There was that skittish behavior again. Stewie apparently just kept retreating into his own world.

"Right! Sorry, sorry…" That being said, there was a moment where nothing happened. And then, Stewie laughed.

"It even has room for your tail!" The child flicked at Brian's tail where it emerged through the slot in the back of the pants. "Oh, that is...that is…" he hesitated, then finally finished with, "...something," and giggled some more.

Brian huffed. "Yeah, it didn't come with one. Paddy just thought I was going to stuff my tail in those pants and keep it confined all day, the jerk. So, I had to take matters into my own hands."

"And cut a hole in the back of your pants!" said Stewie, with a smirk in his voice.

Brian pinched his eyes shut and sighed. This day just might be at the top of the leaderboard for things said that sounded unintentionally like innuendo. He'd just have to ignore it. It was too uncomfortable to point out to his...stepson. The dog winced.

"Exactly," he said quickly, "Now, if you're through prolonging my misery…"

He felt Stewie's hands at his waist and moving down over his backside as the velcro was undone. Brian breathed a sigh of relief, and weirdly, it sounded like Stewie did, too. The baby must have been trying to act sympathetic after teasing the dog about the tail hole.

Brian stripped off the pants and threw them in the backseat, too. "Thanks, Stewie," he said, and turned toward where the child had been sitting. Only to find a passenger door swinging shut. The dog looked out the windshield and saw his youngest stepchild scuttling toward the front door of the house.

Once inside the house, Brian was met with a scene of complete chaos.

"Chris! Calm down! It's just a prank! A silly little James Woods High tradition, that's all!" Lois was exclaiming, clearly perturbed, but also frustrated, while her son sat on the couch in his new school clothes, the luster of the first day of school obviously having worn off, his hair disheveled, his eyes fixed in a thousand yard stare, and hugging his backpack close to him, rocking back and forth as if traumatized.

"You weren't there!" Chris shrieked.

"Chris, we've all been there!" Lois countered. "You made it through, didn't you? It's not a big deal! All freshmen go through it. Right? Tell him, Meg." She appealed to her daughter, who was sitting on the opposite end of the couch.

"They told me that on my first day of freshman year, I'd get pelted with water balloons," answered Meg in a monotone voice. "Instead, I got pelted with watermelons. They had set up these giant slingshots and everything. But it wasn't that bad. One hit my spine and drastically improved my posture. It was better than most days I spend at home. Or at school. But anyway, here's what happened to me today. Mom, I don't really know how to tell you this, but-"

"Cool story, Meg, thanks for helping out" Lois interrupted in a dismissive tone. "So you see, Chris, you're blowing this out of proportion. Tomorrow will be different-"

"Why?! Why didn't anybody warn me?!" Chris was hysterical. He was also now looking at Brian, who hadn't moved from just inside the door. "BRIAN, I'VE BEEN ASSAULTED!"

The dog, stunned by Chris's dramatic declaration, stared blankly. "Uhhh…" _Say something reassuring, say something reassuring, Chris is waiting, look at him looking at you, so simple and trusting, just waiting for his stepfather to make it better…_ "That doesn't sound good," Brian finished awkwardly.

A large sigh came from the small figure standing next to the canine. Brian had almost forgotten Stewie was there- which he felt extra guilty about after the child had had his say.

"Brian, you'll want to go get that costume out of the car and put it on," Stewie suggested in a lazy voice laced with snark. "You'll need something to pin your 'Father of the Year' medal onto. You're sure to win after that comforting observation. Although, maybe you could just fasten it directly onto your chest: surely it couldn't make your heart bleed more than it already is." The baby started to walk quickly away, doubtlessly to disappear upstairs.

"So I owe money to this guy…" Meg said into the brief silence that followed, but Brian cut her off to address his middle stepchild.

"Chris, what did you mean? Can you tell me a little more about what happened?" He approached the sofa and took a seat between the two teenagers.

"He's just being a little over-sensitive about a prank that got played on the incoming freshmen today," Lois said, answering for her son. She had crossed her arms over her chest and now she rolled her eyes. "He'll get over it. Maybe _you_ should be the one to help him do that. Have a talk with him- you know, guy to guy? This seems like more stepfather-and-son territory, anyway." And without explaining how she figured that, Lois headed out of the room and into the kitchen.

"B-b-but," Brian stammered, staring after her. He squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of resentment bubbled up. It wasn't enough that he had to spend all day at work being humiliated, evidently; he then had to come home and do crisis control all on his own. The dog sighed and turned to Chris. "So this is about a prank at your school? What exactly happened?"

"Don't make me relive it!" Chris shouted, throwing his hands up and pulling at his hair, his backpack toppling to the floor. "It's too awful! So many things! They did so many things! I'll never be the same again! My body! My body!"  
 _Oh, my god!_ Brian thought in a panic. _He doesn't mean-_

"Speaking of...bodies," Meg began, "It was my friend, you see, who said she'd do stuff for this guy's friends, and, well, you know how business deals fall through… I said I'd get him the rest of the money, but…"

"Meg, please!" Brian cried out, starting to put a protective arm around Chris, but hesitating and leaving it extended in midair. _Maybe he doesn't want to be touched right now._ "Chris, Chris, h-hey, buddy…" The dog gulped, his heart pounding out of worry for his traumatized stepson. "I know this must be...so incredibly difficult for you, but I can't help you unless you give me some more information here. That's how we find justice. That's how we find h-healing."

Chris took a deep breath. He was shaking, the poor guy. "W-w-well," the teen began, staring down at his hands. "It all started as soon as I got to school today… I was so excited for my first day of high school. I was feeling pretty good about myself, and I don't ever feel good about myself! I had these new clothes, and I'm a high schooler now, so I walked in there with my head held high. Little did I know what was waiting for me!"

"Go on, Chris," Brian forced himself to say, and then waited in dread for the rest of Chris's story.

"This guy yelled, 'Hey, look, a freshman!' And I looked. I looked all around, but then I realized he must be talking about _me_! Everyone was looking at me with these evil smiles! And they were getting closer and _closer_! So I started walking faster and _faster_!"

Brian felt the already tense atmosphere grow more uncomfortable. He gripped the cushion of the couch and began shaking as well as Chris continued.

"Eventually, I was-I was running from them, and they were running after me! I ended up in the cafeteria, and it was full of people! I begged them to help me, but they all had that same look on their face! I was cornered!"

Brian's breathing quickened. He braced himself for what came next.

"I screamed, and this guy grabbed me! He threw me onto a table and began sp-spanking me! Then, Mayor West showed up-"

"WHAT!?"

It was around about that time it dawned on Brian that it was possible he'd misunderstood a thing or two about what had happened to Chris. He didn't want to accuse the victim, but none of the increasingly outrageous details of this shocking story were adding up. The more he thought about it, the less anything he'd heard actually made sense.

"Chris," Brian began, hesitant but determined to get to the bottom of this, "let's, uh...let's rewind for a second, here. Take me back to the beginning. When you say you were assaulted, you mean- "

"With paddles!" Chris interrupted, shrieking. "Everywhere I went in the school, people chased me with paddles! And then they caught me, and they beat my bottom raw! And I think someone was playing Alice Cooper!"

" _Ohhh…_ " Brian muttered, and gave a tentative sigh of relief. What had Lois been talking about when he came in? She'd mentioned something that "we've all been through." This was starting to sound more like some kind of hazing ritual- not nice, certainly, but still better than what he'd been imagining previously. However, paddling could still be a prelude to... _things_ , so Brian figured he'd better make absolutely certain.

"Is that the extent of it, then? They went after you with paddles and just smacked you on the backside a few times?"

Chris was not happy with this synopsis.

"Oh, _is that all they did?!_ Is that what you're asking me? It was _mean_ , Brian! And it _hurt_! They weren't lightly tapping me on the ass with a feather duster like that guy did to that sexy French maid in that adult movie I definitely didn't watch last night! They were hitting me _hard_ with _wooden paddles_! I'm never going back!"

Brian frowned. "Well, Chris, it's your school, you can't just not go back. And besides, you can't run away from your problems." This seemed like a teachable moment, so Brian crossed his legs and settled back against the couch, ready to speak from personal experience. "You know, I once joined the Peace Corps because I was trying to do that very thing. It didn't work, even with 6,000 miles between me and the place where I thought I'd left my problems, and…" The dog stopped himself as the memories of being high as hell for most of that trip came back to him and he realized he probably shouldn't tell Chris about that part. He cleared his throat. "Well, like I was saying, they followed me. I was still thinking about them, and even if I hadn't been, they would've been waiting for me when I got home. And they were. You see what I'm saying here, Chris?"

Chris was nodding thoughtfully as he slowly stood up from the couch. "Yeah...I think I do. Thanks, Brian!" he exclaimed, and then abruptly ran out of the room, seemingly cheered up, easy as that.

"Huh," Brian muttered. "Kids' emotions. They turn on a dime." He crossed his arms comfortably behind his head and lay down on the couch, enjoying his success in imparting some words of wisdom to his awkward and impressionable teenage stepson. He sighed in satisfaction.

"Good job, Brian," the canine quietly congratulated himself around a yawn and then allowed himself the luxury of slipping into a nap after a hard day's work, both at the dealership and at this thing called parenting.

* * *

"Good job, Brian!"

Brian had never heard Lois sound so angry at him before.

His head whipped around as she practically startled the coffee right out of his mouth to spew across the kitchen table. She looked totally enraged, and was waving a piece of paper around.

"Your little talk with Chris yesterday after I left the room must have gone well! What did you say to him?!" She slapped the paper down next to his place at the table and stood next to his chair with her hands on her hips. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"I-I-I-" the dog stammered inarticulately, confused and a little terrified by her demeanor. "W-what happened? Something with Chris? Is he okay?" He seized the piece of paper and realized that it was a note, written in Chris's fairly sloppy handwriting, but the words were unmistakable.

"He did what?!"

Brian's jaw fell. He couldn't believe it. Chris had run off to join the Peace Corps. He turned his head to face his furious wife.

"Th-This… This isn't my fault!"

Lois rolled her eyes.

"Then where else did he get such a crazy idea? Hmmm? You said last night that you told him about your time in the Peace Corps. You didn't tell me that you insinuated he should run away!"

The dog just stared blankly before finally stammering out a response.

"I-I-I told him not to! I said that wouldn't solve anything!"

"You should know you have to be blunt to get anything through to that dunce."

Brian snapped out of his stupor and looked over at the infant sitting next to him, who he had momentarily forgotten about in the wake of the current crisis. The child scoffed, a smirk plastered on his face as he took obvious enjoyment in the latest event in the seemingly never-ending string of lunacy that was the Griffin family saga. Brian would have said something in retort if it were not for the fuming woman still standing over him. He met her gaze once more, wincing at her look of pure disdain. It hurt.

"Look. I'm sure Chris is fine. He's probably already thought better of the idea. I bet, any minute now, he'll come walking through that door saying he changed his mind."

Lois didn't look convinced. He gulped.

"J-Just wait and see."

The woman locked her eyes to his for a few more tense seconds before responding sternly.

"For your sake, he better."

And it was left at that. Without another word, the enraged matriarch of the Griffin family turned and stormed out of the kitchen.

Brian held his head in his hands, tightly gripping his fur and about ready to start tearing it out. "God, what a mess!" he groaned. "I can't believe this!"

"What on earth happened?" Stewie's voice lifted Brian out of his indulging in feeling overwhelmed. The canine lifted his head so he could look at the child to his side. Stewie's eyebrow quirked quizzically. "I mean, did you _really_ convince him to leave. I say, Stepdoggy, that sounds more like me than you. Well, one down, two to go."

Brian momentarily forgot about the crisis at hand, trying to make sense of what the child just said.

 _Two to go? Meg and Lois? Why would…?_

The dog shook his head. It was just the regular nonsense from Stewie. It didn't mean anything. The boy was just teasing him. Nevertheless, Brian responded to the question.

"Of course, I didn't do that! Why would I try and get rid of Chris or anyone else for that matter?"

The child's smirk fell as he seemed at a loss for words. Unusual. Of course that didn't last long. Stewie shrugged.

"You have to admit we'd have a lot less to worry about if everyone else just, I don't know, didn't hang around here...anymore."

Once again, Brian was struck dumb with confusion. He chuckled, completely at a loss.

"I have no idea what you are even getting at, kid."

Stewie shrugged again.

"Just forget it. I was just trying to lighten the mood. All this angst is bad for your health."

Brian went to retort, but Stewie had apparently grown bored with their conversation. The child had returned his attention to his breakfast of eggs and toast that he had been in the process of eating before Lois had marched into the room. Brian sighed, deciding it was best to follow suit and just let the matter drop, for the moment. He took another sip of his coffee, picked up his toast, and took a bite, trying in vain of believe the very words of encouragement he had just given to his wife.

* * *

"Shit! Shit shit shit shit!"

Brian was pacing frantically back and forth in the living room. It was now getting to be eight at night. Brian had been home from another tough day at the office- made all the more difficult because he'd barely been able to concentrate throughout it- for a couple of hours. Dinner had been done with for about an hour now. And while Lois was upstairs in the bath, and Meg and Stewie were likewise upstairs doing their own things, Chris _still_ wasn't back yet!

"Shit!"

The dog threw himself onto the couch and screamed into a pillow. Lois had been giving him nasty looks all day. If Chris didn't come back before she got out of the bath, he just knew she was going to go ballistic on him, and he did not want to deal with that. He couldn't. Things were already hard enough. Not mention he was now actually quite concerned about Chris. Who knew where he actually ended up?

"Do you mind!" a petulant voice close by demanded.

Brian reluctantly pried his face away from the pillow and he peered up to see a pair of feet clad in an infant sleeper. He sat up and frowned at Stewie, who was standing on the arm of the sofa,hands on his hips and no doubt trying to look as imperious as possible.

""Perhaps you might try keeping the dramatics to a minimum?" the child suggested. "Your pseudo-parental freak-out is keeping me from getting my beauty sleep."

The dog barked out a harsh laugh. "You're one to talk. You want a perfect example of being overly dramatic? How about you claiming I'm keeping you up when I've barely been making any noise."

Of course, Stewie wouldn't admit to acting ridiculous and merely shrugged, lightly offering up, "You don't pace as quietly as you think you do," by way of explanation. He lowered himself to a seated position on the sofa arm and casually crossed one leg over the other.

Brian shook his head in frustration. "Please just go to bed, Stewie. Don't use me as an excuse to stay up. You're not helping matters."

There was a long beat of silence during which Stewie seemed to be mulling a retort. The canine was about to ask Stewie again to go back to bed, when the boy told him, almost sulkily, "You don't _let_ me help."

The dog was perplexed. Since when did Stewie have a genuine desire to help him in his hour of need? But he didn't have time to dwell on any odd apparent shifts in the genius baby's personality. Right now, all he saw was another wayward child.

"You could help," he recommended, "by being the kid who actually listens to me."

"Now, now, Dog." Stewie narrowed his eyes at Brian. "You didn't get into this whole mess because Chris didn't listen to you."

Brian narrowed his eyes back, but before he could say anything, Stewie went on.

"But in this case, I'll choose to believe that by 'listen', you mean 'listen to the subtleties."

The canine stared at the child askance.

"Chris evidently ignored the finer points of your story and only heard that you went to the Peace Corps," said Stewie. "Obviously my buffoonish brother shouldn't have done that. So _I'm_ going to ignore you bluntly- and quite rudely, I might add- asking me to go away, and instead choose to hear the other message you're conveying." The baby's expression softened, if only slightly. "That you want someone to stay and support you through this."

"Look, Stewie, I appreciate the thought. I do." Brian sighed and massaged his temples. He was telling the truth. He _was_ appreciative...and sort of amazed. "But Lois is going to kill me. She's my wife, and we're supposed to be supporting each other through this, but I don't know if she'll ever even speak to me again if Chris doesn't come home soon. How can we work together to bring him home if she's too busy hating me?"

"You're more worried about Lois being mad at you then you are about your numbskull of a teenage stepson running around God knows where unsupervised without two cents worth of common sense to his name." Stewie's expression of goodwill had disappeared. He now wore just a trace of a smile, but it was a rather unkind one.

Brian started to say something, but the child cut him off, demanding, "It's true, isn't it?"

Without even knowing if he _did_ feel ashamed, the canine suddenly felt very strongly that he _should_. He felt heat rise into his face, before he decided that he shouldn't be giving any ground on this. Some _support_ Stewie was, coming down here just to criticize him! Was he just supposed that admit his infant stepchild knew more than him?

"Why should it matter? I'm genuinely worried about Chris. We're only in the middle of this predicament because I tried to help him. Which I wouldn't have done if I didn't care about him. I care about this whole family. But the only reason I'm anybody's stepfather is because of Lois. She's the one I'm married to. So yeah, maybe I am a little focused on her being worried sick…"

"And hating you," Stewie interrupted in a monotone. "Don't forget possibly hating you."

The water stopped running upstairs. The sudden absence of the sound of faucets filling the bath perked up the dog's ears immediately, and his back stiffened, his anxiety jumping up a few levels.

"Good luck, Brian," said Stewie, hopping down from the couch and dusting off his sleeper. "I'm sure she won't really kill you."

"You sound almost disappointed," Brian responded with a wry smile, weakly attempting a joke. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, squeezing his eyes shut.

Sitting there with his eyes closed, he heard Stewie reply, "Not at all. I'll even avenge you if she does decide to do away with you."

A small smile teased Brian's lips despite himself. He opened his eyes and looked at the tyke, who now stood on the bottom step, about to start making his way back upstairs. "She'll probably just banish me to the couch." _Like the other twin bed wasn't far enough away…_

"In that case…" Stewie seemed to think about it, and then batted his hand as he turned to climb to the next step. "You're always welcome in my room, I suppose," he finished, with the attitude of someone making a gesture of princely generosity.

The dog's smile grew larger, the offer sounding oddly...appealing.

"I'll, uh, I'll keep that in mind, Stewie."

Stewie said nothing more, simply taking a step and proceeding up the stairs to his bedroom. Once the child was gone, Brian felt himself becoming tense once more. He took a deep breath and resolved to finally head upstairs to his own bedroom. No sense in causing Lois any more grief by making here come down here to get him.

 _Alright, Brian. You got this._

The canine hopped off the couch and slowly made his way up the stairs. When he reached the door, his paw hesitated over the knob for only a brief second before turning it and opening the door. He stepped into the room and shut the door quietly. The door to the bathroom was still shut. Lois wasn't out yet. Brian walked over to his bed and had a seat, taking the moment to compose himself before Lois walked in. He didn't have to wait long. After only a few minutes, Lois emerged from the bathroom now wearing her nightgown. Normally, Brian would be admiring how beautiful she looked in this moment, but with everything else going on, that was now the furthest thing from his mind. The two made eye contact. Brian gulped. Lois crossed her arms.

"Chris isn't back. Is he."

Seeing no sense in trying to stall, Brian shook his head.

"No."

He sighed and directed his gaze downward, feeling quite intimidated by the woman's unblinking stare.

"No. He's not back."

He summoned what little courage he had and looked back up. His wife's expression had not changed. She just kept staring at him. The dog suppressed a whimper, feeling a pain in his chest developing in response to Lois's look of utter disapproval. Minutes must have passed before she finally broke eye contact.

...And that was it. Brian had expected the woman to yell at him, to scold him, to start throwing things around the room as she told him how terrible he was. That didn't happen, though. Instead, she simply walked over to her bed, shut off her lamp, and laid down as if to go to sleep.

The room was dark now, and Brian was still staring off into the distance right at the open bathroom door that now seemed to lead into an endless dark abyss. He wasn't sure how to process this. What did this mean? What was going through his wife's head? He turned around to begin asking the many questions buzzing around in his mind but stopped when he saw the woman's back turned toward him.

He wanted to speak, but it was obvious that Lois was shutting him out and maybe it was best to just handle this later. Maybe after she calmed down they could talk this out. It was wishful thinking, sure, but right now, that was really all he had. Wishful thinking.

The dog reached up to wipe some moisture from his eyes that had suddenly begun to spring up before moving to lie down as well. He slipped under the comforter and rolled onto his side, facing away from his wife. The whimper finally escaped him, and it was the last sound made in that room for the rest of the night.

* * *

"Y-yes, sir, I under- I understand," the dog stammered into the phone, watching Lois stare daggers at him across the breakfast table. It wasn't bad enough that it wasn't even 7:30 in the morning and he'd already gotten chewed out by his bigmouth pipsqueak of a boss, but he'd had the conversation in front of Lois, too. True, she'd only heard his side of it, but Brian had a feeling he'd failed at keeping his reactions neutral- surely he looked and sounded like somebody who was getting scolded. His life just felt like an exercise in futility lately- if not a downright joke.

Brian gulped and placed the phone back on the wall. Lois was now looking anywhere but at him. Steam rose up from her coffee cup, but it might as well have been coming out of her ears.

He didn't know if she was angry at him being too sick with worry to go into work that day, but he could bet she was angry at how weak he must seem as a husband

 _Whipping boy at work, and if one of his stepchildren has a problem, he sends them away rather than dealing with it,_

The canine wished he could make her understand that he really _hadn't_ made Chris run away.

Now Paddy...Paddy had _definitely_ been angry about Brian missing work. His exact words were: "You're lucky we're shorthanded right now, or your ass would be grass, Brian. Poor sales numbers and being absent with that piss-poor excuse would be more than enough to get you fired under normal circumstances."

"So…" said Lois as Brian made his way over to the table and took a seat. "You're just going to hang around here all day?"

Brian winced at her withering tone of voice. "I...I want to be here for the family"

Lois sighed. She pushed aside the breakfast of eggs and hashbrowns the dog had prepared for her before she came downstairs. It was totally untouched.

"Well, Meg says she still wants to go to school, and I don't plan on staying here, either. I need to take my mind off things, so I think I'll see if Bonnie wants to go shopping."

"Oh." Brian blinked at her. "Well...okay. Whatever you need to do. I just…" He paused. He thought about it, although not that hard. And he summoned as much conviction as he could before he spoke next. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this, Lois. I'm going to use today to figure out how to bring Chris back home where he belongs."

Lois glanced away and shook her head slowly, but when she looked back at him again, Brian could tell she wanted to be optimistic. "I….I hope so, Brian." She sipped on her coffee. "You do remember about them painting at Stewie's preschool though, right? And how he won't be going there today?"

"I…" _Had_ she said anything to him about that? Brian felt that sort of frantic energy that always rose up when Lois put him on the spot and he was afraid of disappointing her. He didn't want to admit that he'd forgotten anything- especially not anything that made him look like a bad parent- or wasn't listening to her when she'd told him something important.

He was saved from saying anything else right away when Meg came barreling through the door, clutching her bookbag and clearly in a rush.

"Morning, Mom. Morning, Brian. The bus is gonna be here any minute. What can I grab for breakfast?" She looked over at the pans on the stove top. "Awww, no bacon I can take on the go?"

"How about a yogurt?" Lois suggested. "Or a nice, healthy helping of imagination?"  
"Oh, just forget it," Meg grumbled, looking at her watch. "I'm gonna miss the bus. Too bad I don't have a car to get around in. Goodbye, everybody. I hope you hear from Chris today." She ran out the side door, with Lois calling behind her, holding out the saucer that her coffee cup had been on,

"Wait, you forgot your bacon! Mmmm! And it's low fat, too!"

 _Unhappiness doesn't really bring out the best in Lois, does it?_ Brian thought to himself. His wife stood and took her cup over to the sink.

"I'm going to be heading out now. I'll probably stop in around lunch, so maybe you'll have found something out about Chris before then. See you, Brian."

She walked out through the living room, and soon after, the dog heard her get into the car and start it.

The dog let out an exasperated sigh before returning to his breakfast. He took a bite of egg and reached over to grab the newspaper he had retrieved earlier in the morning. He scanned through the pages, searching for anything of interest that could serve to take his mind off of his many troubles.

 _Pancake with the Image of Jesus Discovered at Flappy Jacks. Teenage Runaway Found Dead in Alligator Pit. Mayor West Finds Striped Shortbread in Package of Fudge Grahams, Declares War on Keebler Elves._

The canine shook his head as he finished his last bite of hashbrowns. Nothing really of note here. He set down the paper and carried his dish over to the sink. After tidying up the kitchen a bit, he thought about what he should do next.

Well, with Lois gone, there were plenty of chores to be done around the house. Maybe if he took care of some of the housework Lois might appreciate it., anything to get back on her good side. The dog smiled slightly. That idea actually made him feel slightly hopeful. But, that soon changed as he considered the tasks that needed to be completed. The dishes needed to be finished. There was laundry to be done. The bathrooms needed cleaning. Lois usually vacuumed on Wednesdays.

With every mind-numbing, tedious chore he listed in his head, Brian's motivation to actually do something productive lessened and lessened until it finally vanished completely at the terrifying consideration of actually operating the vacuum. He shuddered and groaned. He couldn't help but feel disappointed in himself. How lazy was he? Of course, it wasn't like he got free days often anymore, let alone days where he called in from work. So, yeah, maybe he could help out around the house and win back some of Lois's approval, but should he really have to do that? Did he not already do plenty for this family? How often was he going to get an opportunity like this to just rest and relax in peace? Brian looked over at the sink still full of dishes and shook his head. He just didn't feel like bothering, right now, and after debating with himself for a moment longer, he finally said fuck it to the idea of doing chores and moved to exit the kitchen.

He heard a loud yawn and zigzagged just in time to avoid a sleeper-clad Stewie, who was rubbing his eyes and about to walk into the kitchen.

The baby stopped and blinked up at him.

"Fancy running into you here," the child joked groggily. "Well, I see that you're still alive. Lois didn't kill you, then."

"That sort of follows, doesn't it?" Brian agreed dryly, and Stewie pivoted and reversed course, the two of them making their way into the living room together.

"Congratulations," said the infant, and crawled up onto the sofa. "She's not here right now, then? Splendid. I hope she stays gone for a good long while." He turned on the T.V. and it came blaring to life. "These days off don't come around too often."

Brian snorted and hopped up to join him. "What do you have to take a day off from? I thought preschool was comically easy."

"And that's precisely what makes it such a trial. Duh." Stewie adjusted the volume and began to flip around channels. "Besides, I schedule when I'm going to work on my various...projects…" He dragged out that last word intriguingly while examining the dirt under his little baby fingernails "It just so happens that I had nothing planned for today. So, despite the fact that keeping most of my classmates away from huffing paint fumes when they spend most of their time huffing glue, anyway, is a bit of a pointless endeavor, closing the school couldn't have come at a better time."

. Brian was about to dive into the deep end and ask just what "projects" the maniacal genius child was currently working on, but Stewie started talking again.

"So did you finally tell Mr. Hummer where he can shove it?"

Brian side-eyed the boy and shook his head, once again amazed at how Stewie could be so smart and yet so innocent, having no idea how questionable some of his remarks sounded.

Stewie was observing the scene currently playing on each channel as it flickered past, his brow and mouth puckered in distaste as he evidently couldn't find anything to suit his taste.

"Because I don't think Lois would like that very much," he continued. "I'm guessing that she's out there spending your money right now. She won't like it if the gravy train stops rolling in- even if that "Gravy Train" is of the dog food variety."

"Okay, first of all Gravy Train is delicious," Brian retorted. "Second of all, what does that joke even mean? Lois doesn't eat dog food. And, well...I mean, as much as I love her, I'm not letting her touch my bowl, a man's gotta keep _something_ to himself in a marriage…" The canine cleared his throat, embarrassed about how he'd let the conversational train go off its tracks by becoming preoccupied with the subject of dog chow. "Anyway!" he hastily went on, "That doesn't include money. That's not how marriage works. It's not just _my_ money now."

All the same, he hoped Lois didn't go on any kind of a spree today. If she wanted a new shirt or something to cheer herself up, fine, whatever, her son was missing, she was entitled to that.

...And if she wanted a new set of lingerie to model for her loving, patient, _oh so patient_ husband...even better.

But yeah, it really would be for the best if she wasn't buying up a storm.

Stewie shrugged, staring straight ahead, seemingly indifferent, and tossed the remote away, where it landed in parts unknown. He kicked his feet up and down in a mini tantrum. "Ugh! There's not a thing on right now! Perfect, just perfect!"

"Just trash T.V.," Brian agreed, staring at the screen, which showed two enormous women in tiny sundresses attempting to fight each other while being barely held back by two much smaller security officers. In the background sat a reedy-looking man who somewhat resembled Quagmire with a mustache, who shrugged and half-heartedly pled with them to stop, while the show's host just chuckled and the audience cheered.

"So _did_ you quit your job?" Stewie asked after a couple of moments of the only noise in the room coming from the calamity on the T.V.

"No," Brian replied, sighing. "Just called in. Took a personal day, I guess. I just...couldn't deal with the thought of work today, Stewie. Not with what's been going on with Chris."

"Well, are any of you people actually taking steps to locate him?" asked the infant beside him, quirking an eyebrow. "You can't just sit around all helpless, can you? You're supposed to be the 'big people'." Stewie threw up air quotations. He watched the scene on the television with an expression of contempt and gestured at the show while adding, "Not as big as _those_ people, of course."

Brian looked at the boy. "Well, what can we do? We don't want to report him missing yet, Stewie. He might still come back on his own, and if we tell the police what happened, they might jump to conclusions, and assume, you know…" He trailed off, scratching behind his neck anxiously as he felt a flush of embarrassed guilt, even though he'd been continuously reassuring himself since Chris left that he had nothing to be ashamed over.

"What, that you're bad parents?" Stewie, predictably, rushed to fill in, grinning malevolently. "Preposterous!"

The canine felt a genuine flare of anger. "Hey, you can't always prevent kids from doing what they want to do!"

"Next up," the host of the television show announced, "a young woman who declares, 'I won't stop sleeping with my stepfather, and you can't make me!' Right after this commercial break."

"I do wish I had talked things over more thoroughly with Chris, though," Brian admitted, growing pensive. He stroked his chin, and felt all the weight of his responsibilities as these kids' stepfather. Thinking about how he'd given Chris only a few moments of his time when the teenager confided in him about his terrible first day of high school saddened the dog. "I think I probably _was_ trying to sweep his problems under the rug to some extent." He sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. "I should've taken the time to be more helpful than I was. But it honestly never occurred to me that maybe he'd misinterpret what I said. I never thought the situation would get this bad, Stewie! ...Stewie?"

The dog looked over at the baby who was sitting up in an oddly rigid manner, with a strange, tense expression on his face. He was staring at the screen intently, but there was nothing on at that moment more interesting than an ad for fabric softener.

"Ummmm, Earth to Stewie?" the canine prompted, with a bit of a chuckle. He waved a paw in front of the child's face. "You okay in there?"

The infant genius jumped, and gave Brian a look that utterly puzzled the dog. It was the look that a child often had when you caught him doing something he shouldn't.

"Um, yes!" Stewie chirped, just a touch too loudly and way too cheerfully. Then his mood seemed to swing too far back around the other way, and he snapped, "What a stupid question! Why would you ask me such a...stupid, stupid question? The hell's the matter with you? I was just…" And then in a more normal tone of voice, he finished with, "...I was just noticing how much that Snuggle bear looks like Rupert."

"Uhhh...he doesn't, really, I don't think," Brian said, squinting at the company mascot frolicking in a basket of laundry. He only gave the bear a moment of his attention though, because god, kids were weird. They got distracted by the smallest things. "Anyway. You're right, Stewie. It's time for action, not just talk."

"Did I say that?" asked Stewie, sounding like he had totally checked out of their conversation. The sounds of an audience cheering could be heard as the show with the brawling dysfunctional people returned and the host welcomed the viewers back. The baby groaned and cried, "Bah! Where's that remote?" He began to grope around on the sofa cushions. "Did it disappear into another dimension or something?"

"It's not important, Stewie," Brian tried to insist, but Stewie was apparently determined to tear the couch apart.

"Nineteen-year-old Chastity says that ever since she started attending the University of Phoenix Online, she's been home all day, and so has her out-of-work stepfather, Roy."

The baby grimaced. "Oh, I can't take it, I can't…" Abruptly, he sat back against the cushions and throwing one leg over the other, saying with an attitude of pronounced superciliousness, "It's just...such utter refuse. Trash, waste, garbage, what have you. You can't really expect me to tolerate it."

Brian rolled his eyes. "Well, it's not like I like it either, Stewie, but let's face it, we watched a lot worse when Peter was alive."

"But he's not anymore, is he? I have a new daddy now." Stewie sounded slightly manic, and now he was staring fixedly at the T.V. screen, not moving or even blinking as an attractive young woman in a tight tube top and mini skirt told the camera in an antagonistic and bratty voice,

"My mom is never there for Roy! She never shows him any respect around the house! He deserves better than someone like her! I pay him the attention a man like him needs, so of course he'd rather be with me!"

 _Huh, how about we see the mom first?_ was Brian's first thought, which he promptly scolded himself for. _Obviously this guy is a total dirtbag! That's not...that's not appropriate stepfather behavior. Shame on him, for preying on his stepdaughter...even if she is hot and a legal adult and...well, what if he really is just terribly lonely because his wife doesn't show him any affection?_

However, any benefit of the doubt he was willing to give Roy vanished once he actually appeared on screen. Probably past fifty, he wore a backwards baseball cap and was otherwise slovenly dressed. He also had a dunce of an expression, and a practically indifferent attitude to the rather serious situation he was in.

Roy shrugged when asked about the affair, and scratched under his armpit. "Yeah, uh...at first we was just messin' around, ya know, things wasn't so great with me and the old lady, but now...like, Chastity's just really cool, and...yeah, I guess we're in love or whatever."

A woman closer to Roy's own age stormed on stage. She was a little frumpy looking, but actually seemed like she had it much more together than he did. Apart from being nearly apoplectic with rage.

"You've ruined this family, Roy!" she screamed. "How could you, you worthless piece of - !" The show bleeped her out. "You actually think that this is _my_ fault?!"

"It _is_ your fault!" shouted Chastity, gripping onto Roy's arm. Roy, meanwhile, looked so stoned that he was about to fall asleep right there in front of the T.V. cameras. "You drove us into each other's arms, and now Roy and I have something together you couldn't possibly understand!"

Stewie gave an inarticulate yell of frustration and when Brian looked over at him, the canine saw that the child was holding his head in his hands. He soon released it, though, and began to grope around on the sofa cushions again, presumably for the remote control. " _I_ just don't understand! She's...she's just throwing herself away on him! Just what does she see in him?"

Brian was still completely confused by the severity of Stewie's reaction to this stupid show. "Yeah, I know, it's baffling, huh? Listen, if it's really driving you mad, I'll just get up and shut it off…"

He started to stand up, but before he could, Stewie had launched himself at his lap, his arm outstretched, hand grasping for...the remote, which Brian now noticed was on the other side of _him_.

" _Yesss! Got it!_ " Stewie hissed in triumph, holding the coveted channel changer in his hand. He was grinning broadly as he pointed it at the T.V. and switched off the family conflict just as the mom was proclaiming, "I don't blame Chastity at all! I blame Roy, the two-timing, perverted scumbag! YOU CORRUPTED MY DAUGHTER, ROY!"

Stewie gave a deep sigh that Brian felt vibrate through his own body, given that the boy was still in his lap. But then, the tyke seemed to go from profound relief to inexplicably tense. Brian felt Stewie freeze. Very, very gradually, the grin faded from his face, and his head turned, turning his face up to look into Brian's.

"Um…" Brian stuttered, perplexed as to why Stewie was looking at him like a deer caught in the headlights. Or a cornered squirrel. Damn squirrels. The neighborhood had an infestation, he swore. "Hi…?"

"Hi!" Stewie squeaked, and then immediately seemed to come back to life and back off his lap. He scrambled back to his previous spot on the couch.

"I guess you really, really don't like watching family dramas play out on cheap daytime television," observed Brian with a chuckle. "It makes you act completely loopy. Well, I hope you can find something better to watch, or something else to occupy your time. Because I think it's time I made some phone calls, Stewie." He jumped down to the floor and stood with his hands on his hips and a new sense of purpose. "You convinced me. This has gone on long enough. It's time to find out just where Chris went and bring him home."

* * *

"What do you mean you can't get him back!?"

Brian shouted out in exasperation. He'd been on the phone for a solid three hours or so trying to get a lead on where Chris had ended up. Of course, most of that had been on hold as he was transferred from one representative of the Peace Corps to another, each one only a smidge more helpful than the next, until he'd finally been put on with a person that knew something. It still wasn't much help, though. Chris had been deployed to some remote area in South America. That's all they would say about his location, and apparently it would be very costly to go in and retrieve him at this time.

"I mean exactly what I said, sir. We just don't have any easy way to go and get your son back, in this present moment."

"Well, pick the hard way!"

The dog was about at his limit. This should be fairly simple, right? The Peace Corps had wrongly deployed a freshman teenager. They should be able to go and bring him back home, at the very least. How could this moron not see how urgent this situation was? Jesus, they were practically begging for a lawsuit.

"Sir, please stop shouting. That won't solve anything."

The canine pulled the phone away from his head and gripped it tightly to the point where it felt like the device could shatter in his paw at any moment. This was so frustrating. Could nothing just work out for him? He hissed through gritted teeth before taking a breath and bringing the phone back up to his ear, speaking as calmly as he could muster.

"Then, please tell me what _will_ solve something."

There was silence on the other end of the line, as if the representative was trying to think. After a few moments, there was finally a reply.

"Well, we don't have anyone here currently who we can send out to your son's village, but if you or someone else wants to go and get him, we can arrange to have you flown out there so you can get him yourself."

Brian's jaw fell at the suggestion.

 _Go get him myself? Go get him myself?!_

"Seriously?! That's the best you can do?! Send me or another member of my family out into some dangerous remote territory in the hopes that we can find Chris?!"

Silence again and then a sigh.

"Yes, sir. For now, that is the best I can do until we have someone here who is able to make the trip out there instead, and I'm sorry but I can't say for sure when that will be. The Peace Corps has been rather short-handed as of late."

There was a chuckle. Brian felt his blood beginning to boil.

"That's probably why we were so lax with recruiting your son in the first pla-."

Brian had heard enough. He slammed the phone back on the hook and growled.

"What an asshole."

At that moment, the dog picked up the sound of the front door opening and shutting. In short order he was joined in the kitchen by his wife who was carrying several shopping bags. The woman set them down on the kitchen table and had a seat across from her husband.

"Well, any luck with finding out what to do about Chris?"

Straight and to the point. Great.

Brian hesitated a moment, trying to pick his words carefully.

"W-Well, kinda. It's a little...complicated, honey."

The woman's expression was blank as she just stared him down. The dog gulped.

 _Jeez. Why does she have to look so intimidating?_

Luckily, Lois didn't stare at him for long as she turned towards her bags and began removing several food items to put away.

"Complicated? It doesn't seem that complicated to me, Brian. Either my baby is on his way home or he isn't. Which is it?"

Somehow this calm but passive aggressive attitude of Lois's was her at her most terrifying. The dog was simply unable to get a bead on what was going through her head, and that made it impossible to know how to approach the situation. He shook his head in defeat. Might as well just tell it to her straight. No point in trying to save face, now.

"He's not on his way home, Lois, and nobody is going to be able to bring him back anytime soon."

The woman went stiff and ceased pulling out her groceries. A look of sadness washed across her face for only a brief moment, but it was gone in an instant. Brian felt his heart break for his wife. She was obviously concerned, and he hated that this was all, undeniably, partially his fault. He instinctively reached out to touch her hand reassuringly but was denied the contact. It didn't surprise him. Still, he wanted to help in any way he could.

"I did find out where he is, though. He was deployed in some remote part of South Ameri-."

A loud ringing sound cut the dog off. The two of them turned to look at the source of the noise. It was the phone. Lois was the first to get up to answer.

"Hello?"

In the next instant, the woman gasped and smiled the biggest smile Brian had seen in quite some time.

"Chris?!"

The dog shot up from his chair and rushed over to his wife's side.

"Oh my god! That's Chris?! Is he ok?!"

Lois raised a hand to silence the dog as she spoke again.

"Honey, are you ok?! When are you coming home?! Mommy is so worried about her big man!"

The room grew silent except for the faint sound of a barely audible but also unmistakable nasally response from the person on the other end of the line. Brian felt a grin forming on his lips. Yep. That was definitely the voice of the oldest Griffin child. Chris continued speaking for a while as he, Brian assumed, explained his current situation to his mother. As soon as he was done, Lois responded.

"Oh, sweetie. I'm so glad you're ok. That's great to hear. Please be careful and take care of yourself. We'll sort all this out once you are back home and safe."

Brian heard Chris speak again. Then, Lois finished the phone call.

"I love you, too, honey. Bye."

The dog heard the line go dead. Lois hung up the phone and released a huge sigh of relief. Brian did the same.

"So…everything is ok? Chris is coming home?"

The woman looked down at him and nodded her head.

"Yes, Brian. Everything seems to be fine. Chris said he'd come home...in a month...once everyone forgot he is a freshman."

A look of uncertainty suddenly appeared as Lois stood there appearing to think for a moment.

"I...wish it were sooner, but I guess this is better than nothing. I can't help but still worry, though…"

Brian nodded his head in understanding.

"Well, of course. You're his mother. It's only natural for you to worry about your son, especially when he's out there on some foreign continent. But you heard Chris. He's ok. From what I could pick up, he sounded pretty normal. I'm sure he'll be fine, and we'll all be able to put this behind us as soon as he gets back."

Silence for a beat and then another sigh from Lois.

"Sure. Put this behind us."

Brian knew the woman was talking to him, but she was no longer looking at him as she spoke. Instead, she was gazing off to the side, staring off in the distance, lost in thought. She stayed that way for a moment longer before finally turning back towards the kitchen table.

"I'm going to go lie down upstairs. Can you finish putting the groceries away? I'll take the other bags up with me."

Without waiting for a response, she grabbed said bags and proceeded out into the living room towards the stairs. Brian called out to her.

"You got it, sweetie. I'll take care of everything down here. You go and relax. It will all be fine. You'll see."

The woman didn't give any indication that she had heard him as she began walking up the stairs. Brian set to work putting the groceries away.

* * *

The next several days could almost have passed for normal.

Brian returned to work. His job still sucked, but he was able to more or less check his home life issues at the door when he walked into the office. His marriage still wasn't what he wanted it to be, but for the moment, Lois wasn't treating him like she hated him, and was even pleasantly conversational at times, and that's what he chose to focus on.

Still, maybe they all should have picked up on the fact that they were all waiting for a bubble to burst. It was like they didn't even know it, even though things were pretty obviously _almost_ normal, and not completely normal. Neither Lois nor Brian could be completely relaxed about Chris. Over breakfast, or when they were reading at night in their separate beds, Lois would say in a not-quite convincing voice that she was proud of Chris and thought all of this would be good for him in the long run. Then, in a more genuine tone, she would say, "still, I worry." That was the extent to which she would let the stress show.

But Brian knew that it was still there.

As for Chris's siblings, Meg continued her life as normal, but she would ask every day after school if Chris had called again. And Stewie… Stewie occasionally acted like he was dealing with his own issues, but Brian would be willing to bet next to anything that concern over Chris wasn't one of them.

Then a letter came in the mail, and Chris's well-being once again became- for most of them- an issue that hung in immediate balance.

"Mail's here," Brian announced, strolling into the kitchen that Saturday afternoon, holding the stack of letters that the mailman had handed him.

"Well, bravo, boy," said Stewie from his high chair, where he was coloring. "You not only managed to refrain from chasing the letter carrier out of our yard, but also successfully fetched the mail whilst resisting the urge to tear it to shreds? Well done!"

"Talk to me again about tearing it to shreds after I open this credit card statement," Brian joked back. He sorted through the stack in his hand. _Bill, bill, coupons for a new seafood place, bill, an ad for a lady's clothing store…_

Lois, who was sitting next to Stewie at the table, clipping coupons, reached over and grabbed the clothing ad off the table.

 _Bill, a letter from Chris…_

 _Wait...a letter from Chris?!_

"Hey!" Brian exclaimed. "We got a letter from Chris!"

"What?!" Lois shrieked, and, dropping her scissors, practically threw herself halfway across the table as she leaned over to grab the letter out of Brian's paw. "Oh, my God!" she cried excitedly, after reading the return address. "A letter from Chris! Hey, everybody! We got a letter from Chris!" She tore open the envelope without any further ado. "Let's see what my baby has to say!"

She smiled as she began to read the letter. "He says he's doing fine. Ooo, he even met a girl!" The smile dropped off of her face in one fell swoop. "He... No, this can't be right…" She appeared to be rereading something in the letter. "He...got...married?"

"What?!" Brian shouted, and walked over to her, reaching out for the letter. "Let me see that…"

"What, do you think I'm an idiot?" Lois held the letter up high in the air so he couldn't get it. "I know what it says! It says my high school freshman son got married to the daughter of some tribal chief and isn't coming home again!" The letter fluttered down to the table as she buried her face in her hands. "How can this be happening?"

"I...I…" Brian was just as shocked as she was. He picked up the letter from where it had fallen and scanned it quickly, but it was just like Lois had said. He had a sinking feeling in his gut.

 _So accidentally sending Chris off to the rainforest is coming back to bite me in the ass, after all._

"I can't believe this…" he muttered, stunned. He glanced around for support. Lois was still covering her face. Stewie stared back at him with slightly-widened eyes. And Meg suddenly spoke up from behind him in the doorway.

"What's going on? Is it about Chris? Is he okay?"

"Well, yes, that's the silver lining here…" the canine started to say, but Lois shouted over him

"Silver lining?! He's _not_ okay, Brian, he thinks he wants to live in South America forever instead of coming home to his family!"

"Oh, my God," said Meg. "Why doesn't he want to come home? What happened?"

"I'll tell you what happened!" Lois replied angrily. She pushed her chair back forcefully from the table and stood up. "He got caught in a venus flytrap!"

"What?" asked Meg with a quizzical brow, not following.

"He's gotten roped into some sham marriage with some...some...savage floozie!"

"Um, Lois?" Brian interjected. "I don't think that's quite politically correct..."

"Shut up!" Lois fired back, and he did. "My little boy thinks that he doesn't need his family anymore and wants to live in a remote jungle in South America. _What are we going to do about this?"_

"Well," put forth Stewie, "I believe a wedding gift is customary. Don't you have five or six toasters left over from your last one?"

"I- I- I- I…" Brian stammered, too intimidated to speak coherently.

"Spit it out, Speedy Gonzalez!" Lois snapped. "How are we going to get Chris back?" She slapped her palms down hard on the table and then proceeded to run her fingers nervously through her hair, practically tearing at it.

"Ohhh, do we have to split them up?" Meg asked sadly. "Weddings are _so romantic_!"

"Not your mom and stepdad's," Stewie stated dryly.

"Oh, Meg, please!" Lois retorted. "I know you've got next to no experience, because no guy will have you, but that doesn't mean you have to be so stupid about relationships!"

Things were devolving into more and more of a shit show, and Brian hated feeling so ineffectual. Didn't he used to be the clear-thinking, rational, helpful one?

Hesitantly, he spoke up again. "Weh- w-well, I did speak to a representative from the Peace Corps a few days ago, and like I was telling you, there isn't much we _can_ do about bringing him home. They said there was just no way of sending anybody in to go get him, and that our only option would be to go there ourselves and- "

"Wha?" Lois cut him off in a steely-toned voice, her expression blank. "What did you just say, Brian?"

 _What did I just say?_

"That we...that we could go get him ourselves? Is that what you mean? Did I not mention that before?"

"No," said Lois, still in that eerily calm voice. "No, I think _somehow_ you forgot to mention that part, Brian."

Brian winced. "Well, uh, th- they did say, uh, that they could arrange to fly _us_ in to retrieve Chris ourselves, but that's, you know, totally insane! We'd be going into a dangerous part of the world, without any kind of training on how to survive in a jungle, getting dropped off God knows how close to Chris's actual village, walking into a cultural environment we know nothing about and taking their help away? Of course, I dismissed that option right out of hand as being too...too crazy…"

The ire on Lois's face grew more and more visible as he spoke, until her eye was actually twitching by the time he finished.

" _You_ dismissed it right out of hand? _You_ determined, all by yourself, that my little boy wasn't _worth_ going after?"

Brian scrunched down in his seat as Lois strode past him on her way to the door connecting the kitchen and living room, afraid that her quick movement meant she was going to slug him. She stood in the doorway with both hands planted square on her hips and looked at Meg.

"Meg, you have ten minutes to pack your suitcase or you'll have to leave without it. You and I are going to South America to bring your brother home!"

The seriousness of her demeanor sent Meg running past her and presumably upstairs to hurriedly pack, but although everything about Lois right now said that she would brook no opposition, Brian still protested.

"But Lois! You can't mean right now!" He jumped down from his chair. "Are you sure you don't want to think about this a little longer? They probably can't fly you out tonight, anyway. How about we just calm down and think it over a little more?"

"No!" shouted Lois immediately. "The time for thought is over. Now it's time for action. We've been sitting here for days, doing nothing, when we could've been going after Chris. You wanna make yourself useful now, you can watch Stewie while we're gone."

She turned to leave, but just before she did, she added, "And really, Brian, if I were you, I'd be grateful that we're going to be spending this time apart. I don't need a cooler head before I decide what to do about Chris, but I do need a cooler head if I'm ever going to forgive you for this."


	11. Chapter 10: The One With the Explosion

**Chapter 10: The One With the Exploding Preschool Teacher**

Stewie woke up feeling as though something was...off.

He knew immediately upon opening his eyes that there was too much sunlight in the room. It was definitely much later than he usually woke up. That was some noontime sunlight entering the room. He gave a stretch and blinked his eyes. Well, he'd certainly gotten his beauty sleep, that was for sure. Not that he really needed it. He did still have baby soft skin, after all.

"Morning," came a vaguely unenthusiastic voice from off to his side.

"Bah!" Stewie jumped upon turning his head. That voice had come from nearer by than he'd imagined. "What in the name of- !" The baby took a breath, hand pressed to his speeding heart. Belatedly, he remembered that when he'd woken up moments ago, he'd woken up abruptly, to the sensation of being lightly jostled.

Stepdoggy must've come in to...get him up. So to speak.

Dammit, Stewart! A sophisticated mind like yours doesn't belong carousing in the gutter like a mangy, a mangy…

Well. Dog.

Wait, so...why was Brian getting...waking him up so late?

"What bloody time is it? Did I sleep half the day away? Why did you let me do such a thing, stepdoggy? I've got...I've got things on the docket, places to go, people to see. Some of us have a life!"

Brian gave a self-conscious chuckle. Stewie squinted at the canine. He looked a little...worse for wear. If Brian had slept in, too, it had done absolutely no good. Oh, he still looked like sex on four legs- maybe even a little more so for being scruffy- but he didn't look like he was exactly having a good morning.

"Sorry, kid. You know, the weekend. You work all week, and then you take every chance you get to oversleep. Especially with...the others gone." His expression tightened for a second. He coughed. "I don't feel, like, pressure to make breakfast for everybody."

"Hmph. I guess me, myself, and I aren't worth making an effort for," sniffed Stewie, standing up in his crib. "That's fine. That's...whatever." He batted his hand. "I'll settle for some Fruity Pebbles. But now that our day is finally starting, what exactly did you have in mind for it? What did you wake me up for?"

"What do you care, you've got a full schedule as it is," Brian deadpanned. "I just got you up because...well, I felt like I shouldn't let you sleep all day." The dog started forward, his movements obvious. He was attempting to help Stewie out of his crib, but the child, without thinking about it, practically slapped his paws away. Brian may or may not have looked startled by this, but Stewie wouldn't know, having turned away and started climbing over the crib bars by himself.

"I can take it from here, dog. You've done your part already."

* * *

"I thought I was done taking care of you this morning," Brian jibed, carrying the bowl of cereal over to the infant who was sitting on the couch. "Here." He handed it to Stewie. "And I don't suppose you'll need help changing out of your pajamas after you finish eating, either?"

Stewie took the cereal and feigned a casual laugh. "What, do you think my motor skills aren't developed enough to handle operating a spoon? I keep telling you that I build advanced machinery and high tech scientific devices that would boggle the mind of the common man or beast. So why am I going to have to change out of these pajamas at all? Am I going to wind up getting more on me than in me?" He attempted to imitate his mother's voice and admittedly didn't pull it off very well. "I'm not going to end up wearing my breakfast, stepdoggy, and I can promise you that. And afterward, I'm going to enjoy a nice, indolent day at home in my jammie jams. Because I'm worth it."

"Wow. That was quite a rant," stated Brian, blinking at him. The mutt inclined his head toward the bowl the baby was holding. "Your cereal's getting soggy."

"Oh, you just know everything, don't you?"

"What's on T.V?" asked the dog, looking at the screen for the first time.

Stewie shrugged. "Well, it was a Thigh Master infomercial, I don't know what this is…"

It appeared to be some kind of daytime talk show. The female host was consoling another woman, who was weeping and spilling her guts out on national T.V.

"It's just...he's such a nice guy!" the woman whined, burying her face in a tissue. "I feel really bad, but...there's just no heat!"

"Honey," said the host, and then turned away from the guest she was ostensibly trying to comfort in order to give a wink to the audience, "you should always have heat in the sheets."

The audience collectively hollered and whooped in a way that seemed way too celebratory for the circumstances.

"I may as well be in bed with a cold, dead fish!" the woman wailed. "With nightcrawler lips. He kisses like...like a slithery worm! I know...I know he's trying hard, but, but...it's getting to the point where I can't stand to have him touch me. I knew...I knew it meant something, that I had doubts before our wedding." She shook her head in despair. "I even skipped our rehearsal dinner because I was feeling so conflicted. And the worst part is, I really do love him…"

"Awwwww!" said the audience, all together.

"...as a friend," the woman finished, and the audience's awww's turned to gasps and quiet mutterings.

"Have I made a terrible mistake?" the woman asked the host of the show, and gave a highly unappealing-sounded snort as she sniffed back her mucus. "I mean, they always, they always s-say, that friendship is the best foundation for a marriage."

"But," the host argued, and looked very seriously into the camera. "It can't be all you have," she intoned gravely, and the audience's applause seemed somehow somber, too.

"Boooo! Boooo!" someone yelled over this applause, and the camera swung around to capture a man standing up in the audience and walking out. The guest up on stage likewise leapt to her feet.

"Harold! Harold, wait!" she cried.

The screen suddenly went black and Stewie turned in surprise to see the dog with remote in hand.

"Why'd you shut it off, I was watching that!"

"You shouldn't be, it's inappropriate," Brian said in a monotone, and tossed the remote aside. He looked vaguely grouchy, and Stewie could've asked him what was wrong, but after thinking about it for a couple of moments, something clicked into place that hadn't when the baby had still been shaking off the fog of sleep upstairs in his crib. Brian had all the hallmarks of being hungover.

And now they were just sitting there in silence. On the couch, together. All alone in the house, together. And the air seemed thicker, somehow, more claustrophobic. And Stewie scowled because he couldn't think of a conversational opener, but he could think of a way to mess with Brian, and even if messing with Brian probably wasn't the best way to endear himself to the mutt, nothing he could do was ever going to win him over, anyway, and anything was better than sitting here in awkward silence.

Stewie forced a faux pout onto his lips. "Awww," he cooed sarcastically, "what's the matter, dog? Were the emotions getting a little too...loud for you?" He reached over and grabbed the remote, turning the T.V. back on and quickly jabbing the 'volume up' button repeatedly with his thumb until the jumbled sounds of a murmurring and cheering audience, a host preaching relationship wisdom, and a sobbing woman rose into an absolute din.

Brian's expression swiftly turned into a pronounced, annoyed wince. "Stewie, you need to listen to me when I tell you not to do things! I'm the authority figure here!" He lunged for the remote. Stewie leaned away from his grasp.

"Balderdash! You have no authority here!"

The canine grabbed for the remote again, and once more, Stewie attempted to move it out of reach, but this time, he forgot he was holding his cereal bowl in his other hand.

It tipped, Stewie fell back against the sofa cushions, Brian cursed, the T.V. was switched off, Stewie felt the weight of the bowl in his lap, the wetness of the milk dripping down his face, along with the texture of little pebbley pieces stuck here and there, and a hot flush in his cheeks.

* * *

It was utterly humiliating- and slightly chilling- to descend the stairs to the basement in only his diaper, seeing Brian already down there by the washing machine and cleaning up after the baby's own foolish mistake.

"Here," said Stewie upon reaching the bottom, not wanting to let on about his embarrassment. He thrust a small bottle at the dog. "Your aspirin."

The canine took the bottle with a nod of thanks. "You didn't guess wrong about the headache," he said dryly. "And the sound of this washing machine isn't helping."

Stewie's stepdoggy had a load in the washer and was working on sorting out another for when the current one needed rotating. As it turned out, the Griffins had quite a backlog of laundry. Stewie didn't even have a shirt and pair of overalls clean.

"I guess Lois kinda fell behind," the dog observed, looking unhappily at the piles of clothes. He threw back a couple aspirin and sighed.

Stewie cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes. Well. While you're busy picking up the slack for my slothful slattern of a mother, I'm just going to go wait upstairs. Let me know when my clothes are done and I can be decent again." He glanced down briefly at his mostly uncovered body and turned to go back toward the stairs.

Brian snorted. "When are you ever 'decent', Stewie?"

Stewie's head slowly rotated to look back over his shoulder and face Brian with a chastising glare. "I do believe that was an inappropriate thing to say to your stepson. I'd be careful if I were you, Brian. You know, taken as a whole, some of the things you say to me could get you classified as a verbally abusive parent."

The canine blinked at him before scoffing not just in disbelief, but evident, genuine, and open amusement. "Yeah, Stewie, let's just see you make that one fly. Who's even going to listen to you?"

Stewie gasped loudly and dramatically, but if truth be told, he was barely suppressing a smile. This was all just banter. "That's just what an abuser would say!"

Brian was smirking now slightly, too. "Yeah, yeah, Stewie. I just do my best to try and keep you in line. You don't think your behavior toward me is occasionally 'inappropriate', from a stepson to a stepfather?"

For all his big, bulbous brain's capabilities, it took the child until that moment to realize that he'd drawn Brian into a conversation about what were and weren't inappropriate interactions between them, and that really wasn't something that Stewie wanted to think about for too long. Now that he was done throwing quips, his mind had finally decided to exercise its full genuis again, only this time it was thinking of ways to be ingeniously...ingeniously inappropriate. Time to get out, now.

"Ahhh, Brian," the baby drawled, batting his hand. "I have a feeling this will be a back-and-forth we'll have many a time, without ever coming to a solution. 'You don't treat me with enough respect!' 'No, you don't treat me with enough respect!' I'm the one in the right, of course, but that's beside the point at the moment. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to adjourn to my room, instead of standing here in my shame anymore."

Once more, he attempted to head for the stairs, only to have to turn around again when Brian baited him with,

"Your shame in not being able to defend yourself in an argument, or are you suddenly too shy to hang out around the house in your diaper?" The dog snickered, turning to begin the arduous task of sorting through all the laundry that overfilled the nearby baskets. "You know, with the others gone, you could help me out with all of this, instead of running away to go have tea time with Rupert. I know you're more than capable of sorting out laundry. How's that for giving you some credit?"

Stewie hesitated. "Well, I can separate whites from colors. Unlike you." Still, that sounded incredibly boring, and he'd be damned if he had to touch the undergarments belonging to the swinish occupants of this household. Plus, he really, really didn't want to spend any prolonged time with Brian while in this state of undress. Well he did, but…

That course of thinking was thoroughly impractical, however, so the baby just quickly said, "Quit trying to force me into child labor, stepdoggy! This family's too poor to have any new clothing, anyway, so I doubt you'll end up with colors bleeding onto whites. Just do your best, Fido. See you when my clothes are ready!" And he out-and-out ran up the stairs, hoping to find some sort of activity that would allow him to stop thinking about this latest awkward exchange with the hunky dog down in his basement.

* * *

"No, Rupert, not there! I need you to move these blocks over next to the red ones! Don't make me whip you again!"

The infant was standing in the center of his room, surrounded by various building blocks of assorted shapes and sizes. It appeared that he had been very busy since retreating from the basement. No longer was he in just his diaper. No, the child was now wearing one of his bedsheets around his waist. The sheet had been fashioned into something that could have easily been called a skirt, and on his head was a small towel that he was somehow able to shape into a very fitting headdress. He was also wearing one of Lois's nicer necklaces, which he had taken simply out of spite one evening several months ago. It was one with a great big red jewel, and he had placed this necklace on top of the headdress so that the jewel was adorned right in the center of his forehead. To finish off the ensemble was one of Chris's older belts that had become too small for the obese teen but that had still, for some reason, been lying on the floor in the oldest Griffin son's room. The toddler was brandishing the belt in his hand, cracking it in the direction of his stuffed bear who was sitting still on the floor just a few paces away from him.

"Rupert! Did you hear me?! The blocks. Now! You're my slave, remember?"

The bear didn't move. Stewie groaned.

"What are you doing, Rupert?! A slave can't talk that way to his master! Especially when his master is the bloody Pharaoh of Egypt! Build my pyramids, damn you!"

He cracked the "whip" again as a warning.

The bear continued to defy him. Stewie had had enough of this. He raised the belt in his hand with the intention of actually striking the bear this time.

Luckily for Rupert, it was right then that Brian walked into the room.

Stewie jumped, the intrusion having shocked him out of his fantasy. He lowered the belt and turned to address the dog. He wasn't able to get any words out, though, because the expression on Brian's face was just too priceless.

The canine was standing there in the open doorway, holding a basket that contained a load of Stewie's clean clothes. His eyes were wide in an apparent sign of either shock or confusion. Probably both. So, for a little while the two of them just stared at each other awkwardly. The silence wasn't broken until Brian finally cleared his throat, proceeding further into the room as he spoke.

"Uhhhhh, Stewie? What the hell are you doing with Rupert?"

The animal's words caused the boy to blanch slightly. He tossed the belt across the room, his deer-in-the-headlights look vanishing as he glared up at Brian and his next words exited his mouth in a flustered yet annoyed flurry.

"N-Never you mind what I'm doing with Rupert!"

He pointed at the basket.

"Are those my clean clothes?"

Brian stared at the child curiously for another moment before simply shaking his head and setting the basket down next to Stewie's dresser drawer.

"They are."

He reached in and pulled out two articles of clothing, a pair of Stewie's usual red overalls and the now washed blue baby sleeper.

"Now, do you want to get dressed or do you just want to put this back on?"

Stewie knew the answer to stepdoggy's question. It was practically evening already, anyway, so there was no reason to get completely dressed now unless they were going somewhere. And, they weren't, so he needed to put on his sleeper, obviously. But, he found himself frozen for a time as he realized that it was going to be Brian putting it on him.

He had to once again disrobe in front of that dog, and then, those paws were going to be roaming all over his body as they slid the fabric onto his person…

He shivered and forced a look of condescension as he pointed toward the blue sleeper.

"But, of course, I won't be getting dressed, now, dog. You shouldn't even have to ask."

Brian rolled his eyes but said nothing as he placed the overalls back into the basket. With the sleeper in hand, he walked over to the child and knelt down.

"Alright, then. You gonna take whatever the hell this is off?"

"N-naturally," Stewie only slightly stammered, but then made no move to start removing the costume. After a few seconds ticked by with nothing happening, the canine seemingly lost patience with the child. With the blue sleeper tucked under one arm, Brian suddenly picked Stewie up and basically tucked him casually under the other.

Initially stunned by being so swept away by Brian, it took the baby a moment to respond. "Careful not to topple my pyramid, you oaf! I've got a very impressive erection in progress!"

The dog scoffed at this, but said nothing more as he carried the infant over to the changing table. He climbed up onto the stepping stool and set the kid down. He then motioned towards Stewie's outfit.

"Are you going to take it off, or am I going to have to do it for you?"

Oh...dear...lord…

The child gulped unintentionally. This was just so unfair.

"I-I'll do it. You...you don't deserve that honor."

What?! What the hell did you just say, Stewart?!

Brian tilted his head at the young boy, mouth hanging open slightly.

"Uhhh, ok..?"

Stewie stood there for only a moment longer before quickly tugging off the two pieces of fabric on his body, tossing them along with the necklace down to the floor unceremoniously. He was hoping he didn't look as awkward as he felt. Oh, god, what was Brian thinking, right now?!

"There! I'm baring all once more! Now, don't stand there staring like some sort of creep. Let's get this over with, Rover!"

Brian stared at him a moment longer before simply shrugging and holding out the sleeper so that Stewie could step into the legs of the outfit.

Not wanting to prolong his suffering, the child immediately set one foot into the sleeper. He wobbled a bit when he went to place his other foot inside, but he was immediately steadied by a paw on his shoulder. He shuddered at the contact and met the dog's eyes. Brian was smiling at him.

"Don't worry. I've got ya, kid."

A pause in the rapid beating of his heart.

A feeling of lightheadedness.

Stewie shook his head, trying to come back to reality. He couldn't afford to get lost in those desires right now. He cleared his throat.

"Well, I can see that. You'd be quite the horrible step-parent if you didn't, right?"

He chuckled sadly and placed his other foot in the sleeper.

Brian said no more and quickly buttoned him in.

It was amazing how something as simple as being clothed in his pajamas once more was enough for Stewie to feel the weight of this moment lifting off his tiny shoulders. He breathed in and clapped his hands together.

"Alright. Done. Let's get on with the rest of our day, shall we?"

The infant hopped down to the floor, and Brian followed after him, climbing off of the stool.

"Not really much of the day left."

He walked back over to the basket and began putting away the remaining clothes. Stewie wasn't far behind, addressing Brian as he quickly put the infant's clothes away.

"True."

He reached up and began tapping his chin.

"Although, I can stay up tonight. No, preschool and all."

Brian set the shirt he was currently holding into one of the drawers and turned to look at Stewie, eyebrow quirked.

"What? Since when? Just because Lois isn't here doesn't mean I'm letting you play hooky."

Stewie frowned and rolled his eyes.

"You seriously don't remember? I thought Lois told you about this."

Brian just shook his head and grabbed a pair of matching socks that he then proceeded to roll together and place in another drawer.

The boy sighed.

"Well, do you at least remember that the reason the building has been closed for the last few days was because they were repainting the classroom?"

Brian bent over to grab another article of clothing out of the basket.

Stewie kept his eyes from wandering.

"Oh, yeah? They still doing that? I thought they finished Friday."

"Well, there was... ahem." The child couldn't keep a small chuckle from his voice, but he attempted to cover it up with a cough. "An incident." He tapped on his chin and spoke contemplatively. "Let's see, er, how can I put this? I understand that some people can be sensitive to gruesome news."

He seemed to have garnered Brian's full attention, and the dog was standing, facing him and waiting expectantly for him to finish his story.

"Teacher go boom," Stewie stated bluntly.

The canine's ears twitched as if he couldn't possibly have heard that correctly.

"What?!"

Stewie rolled his eyes. The frequency with which he rolled his eyes around here sometimes made him worry they'd eventually fall right out of his head, but he did it, anyway.

"Oh, what the devil are you looking at me like that for? I didn't do it!"  
Brian shook his head very rapidly. "I-I didn't say that you did, Stewie, but now that you mention it- "

Stewie's shoulders sagged. "If you don't believe me, you're not getting your money's worth out of this story. The best part is the stupid woman did it to herself. She was smoking near some paint cans, apparently. And the rest is history. As uh, as is she."

The child finished his story in a manner of pure nonchalance, folding his hands behind his back and rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as he shot the dog a big grin.

Brian, however, looked absolutely horrified.

"Oh my god!"

He dropped the pair of overalls that he had been holding and just remained standing there with an expression of pure shock.

"Lois didn't say anything about that!"

Stewie shrugged.

"Eh, I guess she has been pretty distracted lately."

The dog's expression fell into one of hurt.

Stewie noticed immediately, causing his smile to fall in turn.

"But, hey, it's no big deal. She's always distracted with some idiotic thing."

Those words didn't seem to have any noticeable effect on the canine. He just leaned down to retrieve the overalls he had dropped and continued with his chore.

Stewie mentally slapped himself. Things were going so well...or at least well for them. Then, he had to go and say that! Of course Brian didn't want to hear about Lois being distracted these past few days or anything that even remotely had to do with Chris running away.

Nice one, Stewie...

"So, how long exactly until you can go back to preschool?"

Stewie snapped out of his thoughts and brought his attention back to the dog who was just finishing up with the clean laundry.

"Well, you see...I don't really know. I heard Lois say that classes wouldn't start back until they found another teacher, and who knows how long that could be."

Brian closed the final drawer and leaned his forehead against the dresser.

"So, what you're saying is that you might not be able to go back for at least another few days. And, with Lois and the others gone that leaves me with nowhere to keep you while I'm at work."

The boy's mouth fell open slightly, not sure what to say. This was honestly something he hadn't considered yet.

"Oh...yeah. I guess that is the case."

Brian suddenly shut his eyes and punched the drawer, releasing a feral grow as he did so.

"Goddammit, Stewie! I need to go to work! Paddy is going to kill me!"

This reaction honestly took Stewie completely off guard. The boy jumped back and began waving his arms in the air defensively.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Don't get mad at me! Like I said, I didn't blow up the dumb bimbo!"

The dog clenched his fists tightly before exhaling a long breath through his teeth and composing himself. He opened his eyes and looked at the boy apologetically.

"I...I'm not mad at you, Stewie. I know it's not your fault. This just… This just sucks."

Stewie nodded his head, considering his next words carefully. After a minute, an idea popped into his head. He smiled warmly at the canine, doing his best to reassure his stressed friend.

"Hey, you know, you don't have to take me anywhere. I'd be perfectly fine here alone for a few hours."

The dog breathed in deeply once more and appeared to be considering the suggestion. That didn't last long, though. Because, in the next moment, the dog was shaking his head vigorously in the negative.

"No. No. I can't do that, Stewie. If Lois found out… I can't have her mad at me about something else."

Who cares what that wench thinks!? Do what's best for you, you overly-devoted lapdog!

Stewie wanted to give voice to his thoughts. This was so very frustrating. He hated seeing Brian so upset, but it was always so much more infuriating to see his stepdoggy tearing himself apart over someone so unworthy as his mother. Still, he knew deep down that there was no swaying Brian on this matter, so he did his best to mask the anger the dog's words had caused him to feel, offering nothing more than a simple nod before saying, "Well, don't say I never tried for you."

Brian offered up a small smile before turning around and picking up the now empty basket.

"Come on. I think there are some leftovers still in the fridge we can have for dinner."

The dog then proceeded out of the room, leaving Stewie to stand there feeling slightly defeated before finally working up the nerve to chase after the object of his affections.

* * *

The rest of the day was rather uneventful. Brian and Stewie had dinner and watched a little television before Brian decided it was time for Stewie to go to bed. Stewie hadn't been tired since he'd slept in so late, but he also hadn't protested because he didn't want to be difficult for Brian. The dog was under enough pressure as it was, as far as he was concerned. Still, he had found it incredibly difficult to get to sleep. He wasn't sure what time it had been when he'd finally been able to find a comfortable position that allowed him to slip off into dreamland, but he knew it must have been late. So, this made it especially odd to him when he awakened the next morning to find that the sun had just barely risen. The infant rubbed at his eyes groggily and turned his gaze towards his bedroom window. He yawned.

"What the devil? How can it still be so early?"

The baby contemplated whether or not he should get out of bed or roll over and go back to sleep. There was no way he had gotten his first eight hours, and it wasn't like he had anywhere he needed to be early. So, his choice seemed pretty clear. But, just as he was about to roll to the other side of his bed, his ears picked up the faint muffle of a deep voice coming from downstairs.

Brian?

Stewie sat up immediately. Brian was already awake, too? Who was he talking to?

Suddenly, the infant's curiosity was peaked, and he found that sleep no longer seemed as tempting as it had been before. He looked over towards Rupert who was still sleeping beside him. Then, he carefully stood up and silently crawled out of his crib before stealthily making his way downstairs, following the sound of the dog's voice all the way into the kitchen where he found the canine sitting at the table talking on his cell phone. He looked quite...unkempt.

The toddler crept into the room, not quite ready to make his presence known as he listened intently to Brian's side of the conversation.

"Yes, I know that I called in last week, but there's nothing I can do here, Paddy. With Lois and the others gone…"

The dog stopped talking as if he had been interrupted. He sighed under his breath and gripped the bridge of his nose as if he was trying to suppress some kind of frustration.

"Ok. I'm sorry. Mr. Tanniger. Anyway, like I was saying, there's no one else here to take care of the baby, and by the time I find a sitter, I won't have time to make it into work for even half the day, if that. I would just really appreciate it if you could give me the next few days off, and I promise you that when I come back I'll make up the sales missed for those days and then some. Please. I really need you to work with me on this, Pad… I mean, Mr. Tanniger…"

Stewie rolled his eyes. Damn that boss of Brian's! Surely it was understandable that these were unusual circumstances.

Come on! Just cut stepdoggy a break, dammit!

There was silence for a long while. Stewie waited anxiously to see what would happen next. Brian was just sitting there stoically, unreadable, and despite being able to hear some sort of chatter coming over the other line as the dog's boss ranted and raved, Stewie was unable to make out a single word.

At last, though, after several minutes, Brian's expression lightened ever so slightly and he nodded his head.

"Yes, sir. I understand. Thank you, Paddy."

He went to hang up the phone, but stopped just short of ending the call.

"I mean Mr. Tanniger!"

It was after he made that correction that Brian finally hung up the phone. The dog sighed again and threw his head against the table, causing a loud thud to reverberate through the room. The child winced. Surely, that had hurt.

He thought that now might be a good time to speak up in order to make his official entrance, but before he could get his words out, the dog's head shot up and he began dialing the phone again.

The boy decided to hold his tongue and wait just a little while longer to see what Brian was up to now. He listened as the phone rang and rang...and rang. Brian began tapping his fingers against the table and muttering to himself.

"Come on. Come on. Lois, answer the damn phone. Talk to me. Come on. Dammit!"

Brian slammed his fist against the table, but then quickly composed himself as he began speaking again with an almost manic smile.

"Heeeey there, Lois. I was just trying to see how you and Meg were doing. Find Chris yet? Me and Stewie are doing pretty good. It kind of…"

The canine chuckled half-heartedly.

"You know, it kind of took me by surprise when I found out that the little guy wasn't going to be able to go to preschool for the next few days. Had to call my boss and ask for some more time off, but that's fine! Stewie's just a little cutie and no trouble at all!"

The dog had been slowly raising his voice, but he seemed to have realized this as he brought the volume down for the next sentence.

"I'm just concerned about the rest of you. Would really appreciate you getting back to me soon so I know what to expect… So, yeah, you, uh, you just give me a call whenever."

He cleared his throat before seeming to force out the last few words.

"I… I l-love you, honey. Take care."

And that was it. The dog hung up the phone, and Stewie decided he had heard enough. Plus, he was kind of reeling from having heard Brian call him a "cutie", so he wasn't sure just how much longer he was going to succeed at standing there silently. So, he fought to suppress the blush on his cheeks and finally spoke up.

"Up already?"

The canine practically fell out of the chair as he simultaneously jumped and spun around to face the sneaky toddler. Luckily, he was able to grab the table to stop his fall.

"St-Stewie? What the hell?!"

The child, who had momentarily begun sprinting toward the canine out of concern that he may actually fall out of the chair and onto the floor, came to a halt and offered up nothing more than a tilt of his head.

"What do you mean 'what the hell'?"

The dog took a moment to steady himself before reaching up to rub at his temple, groaning.

"I mean, what the hell are you doing up so early? Shouldn't you still be in bed?"

The infant scoffed and folded his arms over his chest.

"Yeah. Actually. I should. Maybe you should have thought about that before you started talking so loud on your goddamn cell phone. It's a wonder I wasn't awakened earlier with all the noise you were making!"

It was a lie. Stewie knew that. Brian hadn't been that loud, but the boy felt like he needed some kind of excuse for bothering to come down here so early and no other explanation was really suitable.

Brian didn't say anything for a while. He just continued to massage his temple, gritting his teeth as if he were in some kind of pain. It didn't take Stewie long at all to figure out what was wrong. He groaned in unison with the dog as he shot him a scolding look.

"Oh, my god! You're hungover again, aren't you!?"

The dog winced and flinched away from the shouting infant, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Ahhhh! Jesus, Stewie! Keep it down will ya? It was bad enough that I had to fight through this damn headache while I was on the phone with Paddy!"

The child's expression softened ever so slightly. He hated seeing his stepdoggy in pain. Still, it was stepdoggy's own damn fault for abusing the drink, so even if it hurt him to see Brian hurting, he found that he could only muster up so much sympathy. So, he remained there standing with his arms folded as he shook his head.

"Why do you do this to yourself, Brian? Is it really all that worth it? I mean, look at you, you're a mess! Do you actually enjoy feeling this way?"

The dog opened his eyes and met the child's briefly before immediately turning his head away and sighing sadly.

"Th-This isn't the feeling that I like. It's what comes before…"

There was a beat, and then, the animal shook his head violently before hopping down from the chair.

"I've just got a lot on my mind, kid. It's fine. I'm handling it. Forget what I said."

The infant knew he wouldn't just be able to forget. He simply cared too much, now, but he figured that, at least for the time being, he could drop the matter. Maybe that was the right move here. Maybe what would be best for Brian right now would be to just get on with his day.

So, with that thought, the boy dropped his arms and offered up a small, barely noticeable smile.

"I guess I'll go get the aspirin."

* * *

Stewie really was trying his hardest to keep his cool for Brian's sake. The poor dog already had enough on his plate, and frankly, he looked like hell. The child really didn't want to add to the stress of the severely hungover canine, but he found it was becoming harder and harder to keep on with these attempts at cheering up his friend when that blasted animal insisted on trying to call his mother every twenty minutes.

"Come on, Lois. Pick up the phone…"

Stewie sat slumped on the couch, lazily flipping through channels. The goal had been to bring Brian in here so they could find something to watch together and hopefully get Brian's mind off his troubles. Unfortunately, his dumb stepdoggy was just too stubborn. The infant sighed loudly, intentionally trying to get the dog's attention. He succeeded.

Brian turned to shoot him an annoyed look.

"Could you keep it down, kid? I'm trying to hear if she picks up."

The boy's palm rose up to meet his face.

"Ugh! Trying to hear if she picks up? Brian, you've been trying to call that hussy for hours now. What makes you think this will be any different? I think she's got the message. She'll call you if she feels like it."

The sound of Lois's nasally, intolerable voice began screeching out of the phone. Stewie had heard it enough times today to know that it was his mother's voicemail.

Brian growled and slammed his phone shut.

"You shouldn't call your mother a hussy. That's disrespectful."

The boy snorted at this. How adorable.

"I'm just saying that you're wasting your time. And, you know I'm right. So, why don't you forget about that hussy for a while and try and relax with me. It just might do you some good."

Brian gazed over at the baby sternly, obviously expressing his displeasure at hearing Stewie say that word immediately after he said not to.

Stewie just shrugged.

"What, you gonna punish me?"

He giggled before speaking mockingly.

"Oh, boy! I'd like to see you try!"

I...really...would, though…

The dog continued to stare at him for a minute longer before allowing his head to drop.

"What-Whatever, Stewie."

He turned and sunk down in the couch next to the child.

"Mind passing the remote?"

Stewie nodded and handed the item to the dog.

"Good luck. I must have gone through every channel we have almost five times. There's not a damn thing on."

Brian offered up nothing more than a low hum as a response as he raised up the remote and began mindlessly scanning through channels.

* * *

The child sat there bored out of his mind. This had not gone how he had planned AT ALL. His goal had been to take Brian's mind off of his problems so the two of them could move on to doing other things. He had not counted on sitting there in the living room with a depressed, messy, moody-looking Brian for essentially the whole day. But, that's what had happened. Aside from a brief break to grab some lunch, the dog had just sat there well into the evening watching a bunch of mindless nonsense. That was bad enough, but what really irked the boy was how it seemed like this whole exercise hadn't even gotten Brian's thoughts off of Lois and the situation with Chris or his job and his duties as a stepparent. No, if anything, the canine was simply using the TV as a distraction to keep from having to talk about it, since any time Stewie would try and strike up some friendly conversation between them, Brian would only answer with barely audible grunts or nods of his head like some kind of neanderthalic cave-dog! If anything could get him to stop viewing his stepdoggy as some desirable sex object, this was it.

Stewie groaned.

"Brian, how much longer are we going to sit here? It's basically almost dinner time. Do you really think this is healthy?"

The dog laughed darkly, prompting Stewie to actually sit up straight and pay attention since this was the first unique response he'd heard from Brian in hours.

"But, you were so insistent that sitting here would do me some good! I'm sure it'll start working any second now."

Stewie huffed and turned his whole body towards the dog.

"Oh, don't be such a bitch. You know damn well this isn't what I was talking about. I was just trying to get you to enjoy yourself for a minute. Excuse me for trying to get you out of your funk!"

There was a long pause, and then, the TV was shut off. Brian tossed the remote over to the other side of the couch and, then, rubbed at his eyes before turning to look at Stewie for the first time since lunch. There was an odd mixture of emotions in the dog's eyes. Stewie couldn't make them all out, but one thing he definitely saw was sadness.

It hurt Stewie to see that.

"You know, sometimes I really don't get you, Stewie."

The dog sighed.

"It's like there's no way to know what to expect from you from day to day. You can be the most disrespectful little deviant, at times, but then…"

He paused as if contemplating his next words.

"There are times when you...are, like, actually decent and...caring to some degree, a degree I never would have expected from you only a few months ago. And, then, there are times when your behavior is just straight up baffling, and I can't make heads or tails of what's going through your head."

He stopped again.

Stewie waited to see where Brian was going with this. His heart had actually sped up a fair bit as this seemed to be getting a little more personal than he was comfortable with, nevermind how quickly this had all escalated. However, he maintained an air of calm and then finally replied when it seemed like the canine was struggling with what to say next.

"Ok… And, this is relevant why?"

Brian turned to look away, eyes seeming to land on the blank screen of the television.

"I guess it's just a little disorienting in a way?"

He laughed dryly and then turned to look at Stewie once more.

"It's like I never know exactly how to approach you. As for right now, I guess what it comes down to is despite me being in a bad mood and wanting to be mad at you for the way you were behaving earlier... Because that's what a good parent would do, right? Disapprove of a disrespectful attitude from their child?"

Stewie winced at the idea of being considered Brian's child but didn't dwell on it too long because he genuinely was curious as to where Brian was going with this.

"I can't really find it in me to stay mad, right now, or to even do anything significant about it no matter how much I think I probably should. I just don't have it in me... I guess that kind of makes me a bad stepparent, but I'm really just sort of grateful for the company, right now, I guess? Grateful that someone actually seems to give a shit about what's going on with me."

Stewie noticed Brian's lip quivering ever so slightly, but the dog didn't break, just continued on speaking.

"So, I guess what I'm trying to say is thanks… And, I appreciate you, you know, caring."

The pounding in Stewie's chest was so intense, right now. He and Brian were actually having a moment! What now, though? Did they hug or something? Stewie wasn't sure how to proceed in a way that wouldn't destroy this fragile atmosphere that had just been created. The dog wasn't done speaking, though. The next sentence came out in a whisper, and it seemed like the canine was talking more to himself than to Stewie but the words still caught the infant off guard.

"I honestly kind of regret that I'm in this role of stepparent with you."

The child's eyes went wide, and oh lord, did it take almost all the willpower he had not to jump Brian right then and there. Luckily for him, the dog then proceeded to get up from the couch, officially ending their little moment.

"I'm going to go order a pizza. Any preferences?"

It took a moment for Stewie to come back down to reality, and when he finally did, he simply shook his head and muttered out,

"No. I'm not picky."

Brian nodded and then walked into the kitchen, leaving Stewie to sit there dumbstruck but in pure unadulterated elation. The infant giggled and smiled, kicking his legs giddily before falling backwards onto the couch.

He appreciates me!

He felt a little silly. It wasn't like what Brian had just said really meant anything, at least not in the way Stewie so desperately wanted it to, but it had still warmed the child's heart to almost dangerous levels. So, silly or not, Stewie was going to take a second and just bask in the warm fuzzies his crush's words had awakened in him. He was appreciated. Brian didn't want to view him as a son. On the surface, that wasn't a particularly huge deal, probably, but at least for right now, those facts were enough for this particular lovesick young man.

The baby closed his eyes and hummed happily, allowing the alternative scenario to what had just happened to play in his head. The one where he had given into his impulses to embrace the canine and kiss him fully on the lips.

...And where Brian had kissed back.

* * *

The rest of the night was spent with T.V. and pizza. Nothing all that interesting really occurred. Brian still seemed pretty upset, though he did appear to be trying to at least hide that fact, now. Stewie could see that he was trying to keep in good spirits, and Stewie knew that the slight shift in attitude was all due to him. It made his heart soar to know that he could have such an effect on his stepdoggy.

So, it was with this thought in mind that Stewie went to bed, determined that he and Brian were going to have a good time tomorrow, one way or another. He didn't even know what they were going to do, but he felt he had good reason to believe that tomorrow was going to be a great day for them. It excited him, making it incredibly difficult for him to get to sleep, so once again, the infant didn't slip off into slumber until well into the night.

Luckily, he didn't awaken as early as the day prior.

The boy's eyes fluttered open, and he sighed happily, feeling well-rested and refreshed.

"Morning."

The infant jumped slightly as he turned his head to see Brian just standing there...watching him. Odd… Though, not entirely unwelcome. The baby suppressed a chuckle as he inquired through a yawn.

"Uhhhh. Ok. Creepy. You just like to watch all the cute boys sleep?"

Brian shook his head, though the slight smile on his face was obvious.

"I was actually just about to get you up. It's just past ten, kiddo."

Stewie sat up and gave a great big stretch before standing up and climbing out of his crib.

"Just past ten? Ah. So, the morning isn't completely gone yet. Splendid."

The baby smiled up at the dog briefly before turning to go grab some clothes for the day. He heard Brian following after him.

"Wow… You seem to be in a pretty good mood today."

Stewie watched as Brian took over the task of retrieving his clothes. Normally, he'd let the canine know just how unnecessary that was but not today. Today was going to be all about making that dog smile. His stepdoggy needed that, and if nobody else was going to bother, Stewie was more than happy to step in. After all, that's what you did for the ones you loved...right?

So, the infant simply nodded his head enthusiastically.

"Oh, but I am! I feel all refreshed and alert and ready to take on the day!"

Brian chuckled a little dryly as he set Stewie's outfit for the day on the ground.

"Well, at least one of us is."

The boy's smile fell but only slightly.

"You're not hungover again are you?"

The canine seemed to pause briefly as he considered his answer.

"No… Not this time."

Stewie tilted his head curiously.

"Stay up late?"

Brian shook his.

"No. I actually got to sleep not too long after I took you to bed."

The child shrugged, choosing to not let his mind linger on the last part of that sentence.

"Well, then, you should be fine, right?"

The dog just stared at the boy for a second before sighing.

"It's kind of hard to be fine, right now, Stewie. Lois still hasn't called me, so I have no idea if the family is ok, and beyond that, I still don't know how upset she is with me. I still can't go to work today, and every day I take off only adds to the mounting stress."

His head fell, and he made tight fists with his paws.

"Look, I know what you're trying to do, but…"

The child could see that his stepdoggy was beginning to spiral. That just wouldn't do. Not today.

"We should get out of the house today!"

Brian's head shot up. He looked a little perturbed at having been interrupted while in the middle of his monologue, but all he offered up was a slightly confused sounding, "W-What?"

Stewie continued, satisfied that he had successfully distracted Brian, if only for the time being.

"I don't believe I stuttered, Brian. We've been cooped up in this house for days. It can't be mentally healthy, especially with all that you're going through."

Suddenly, in that moment, the boy reached out and took one of Brian's paws in both of his own hands. He didn't even notice what he was doing until he had made the grab. He froze, trying to keep his composure as he contemplated letting go. But, wouldn't that just be even more suspicious?

Oh, screw it.

He settled on continuing with the contact as he finished what he was going to say.

"Y-You just need to forget about Lois. You need to just take a day and not think about her or your job or your responsibilities. Just one day. It's not like you can really do anything about any of that right now, r-right?"

The boy laughed a little manically. He wasn't sure if Brian noticed. The dog's gaze was just locked on the paw he was holding…

"Let's just go d-do something. Take a load off, you know? It'll be good...for both of us."

Stewie dropped the canine's paw, then, and he watched as the dog continued to look at the area where their hands had just been before looking up with a small smile that made the young man's heart melt into a puddle.

"What did you have in mind?"

* * *

"Ohhhhh, this'll be so much fun!"

The dog and baby pair passed through the entryway to Super Splash City, the local water park in Quahog.

Stewie was honestly surprised that the dog had agreed to take him here. He was surprised in himself for having suggested it, as well. When he had settled on him and Brian getting out of the house for the day, he really had no idea what they would even be doing. So, after Brian had asked him what he had in mind, it had honestly taken him a bit aback. He hadn't been sure what to say, and this had led him to scan their local phone book for attraction sites. When he had pointed out that they could go to the water park, it had initially been mostly in jest. But, then Brian had pointed out how the park was going to be closing for the year and how entry rates were now at a discount and… Well, here they were, decked out in their swimwear. Stewie was wearing some simple teal swim shorts, and funny enough, Brian had on a pair of blue ones, a fact that earned much more amusement from the boy than was probably warranted. It was just funny to him, though.

Because Brian was a dog. What did he need those for?

Oh, well. What did it hurt? He did look cute in them, after all…

"Wow, this place is pretty much dead," Brian observed, looking around at the sparsely populated pool area. Aside from a lifeguard and an attendant manning each waterslide, the only other people around were a father and son duo in the pool, and a rather large woman sunning herself on her towel.

"Indeed," Stewie agreed. "No wonder it's discount day. Not closing a moment too soon, are they?"

"Well, at least we won't have to be packed in there like a bunch of sardines in a cesspool," said Brian, gesturing out at the chlorine blue waters.

"Don't you drink out of the toilet?" Stewie snickered, to which his stepdoggy scoffed and replied,

"Only sometimes. Anyway, let's get these towels set up somewhere and then I'll help you get your water wings on."

"Oh, I don't have to stay in the baby section the whole time, do I?" whined Stewie, his voice dripping derision. "C'mon, where's the fun in that? If I just wanted to take a bath, I could've stayed home."

"Uhhh, seeing as how you are a baby," said Brian, plunking down their pool bag and starting to take out their towels, "and having a massive intellect has nothing to do with how good a swimmer you are, let's just play it safe, huh?"  
Stewie grumbled under his breath. He wasn't sure why he was being difficult. Just if they were going to be two buddies, on an equal standing, out having a blast on a beautiful day, he didn't relish the idea of floating in place and ineffectually flapping his wings while Brian lazed about poolside.

"Well...maybe you could teach me how to doggy paddle." Stewie wasn't sure if he jested or not. The father and son, actually, seemed to be involved in sort of a swim lesson. The kid, maybe four or five, was hanging onto the side of the pool while the father treaded water behind him, holding onto the son's legs and apparently showing him how to kick correctly.

Then again, thinking about himself and Brian in those positions brought the heat to Stewie's cheeks, so maybe such a scenario was best avoided.

"Tell you what…" Brian had laid out the towels, now, and was rummaging in the bag for something else. The dog's paws withdrew, one clasping the handles of two splash rackets and the other a small, waterproof ball. "You have to stay in the shallow end with your water wings, but I'll get in with you and we'll play a game. How's that sound?"

A few minutes later, they were over in the shallowest end of the kiddie pool, because no sooner had they paddled out to the 3 ft. marker than Brian started freaking out.

"Wait...wait. Stewie! No, I don't think this is gonna work. I can't touch the bottom!"

Stewie had quirked an eyebrow at the dog in bemusement.

"Er, so? You can swim."

"Yeah, but, like, I can swim like this…" Brian then demonstrated a very canine doggy paddle. "If I have to do that constantly, I can't exactly do anything with the other kind of paddle, can I?"

Other kinds of paddles… Stewie thought dreamily, but then managed to bring his mind to heel and keep it from wandering into dangerous waters.

So, they were over in the 1 ft. section, with Stewie floating and Brian actually standing on the little steps located just under the surface of the water, used to descend into the pool.

"Alright, dog, you'd better ready yourself, because Stewie is going to smash you!" Stewie warned, ready to deliver a vicious serve.

He sent the ball Brian's way, and the mutt promptly caught the thing...in his mouth.

Stewie simultaneously giggled and rolled his eyes. "Well, maybe the use of your hands wasn't required after all. Let's see what you got." The kid readied his paddle.

It warmed the tyke's heart to see Brian actually make an effort at goofing off, and that silly mutt honestly made an attempt to spit the ball across the pool at him. He fell far short, of course, but that didn't seem to bother the dog. As the ball began to drift slowly away, Brian swam forward on his belly to grab it, and Stewie caught an absolutely adorable glimpse of the canine's tail wagging back and forth.

"Okay, but how about a real effort this time, Rover," Stewie taunted good-naturedly, and swatted his racket playfully through the air, already giddy over this game they hadn't even started yet.

Time seemed to fly by. After a certain point, they weren't even keeping score. The truth was, they weren't doing the best job, what with Brian unwilling to leave his steps and Stewie's water wings occasionally forcing him to float a little off-course. Well, to be totally accurate, Stewie had stopped caring about the score awhile ago, while Brian insisted that he'd been keeping track and that he had a significant lead.

"But in the grander scheme of things," Stewie retorted, swinging the ball back to him, "how much of a lead can you really claim as yours when you've swallowed that much pool water from that germ-soaked disease ball? I suppose we can always try to sterilize that mouth afterward by soaking the ball in some gin. I'm sure you'd enjoy that."

Brian narrowed his eyes at the baby and for a moment, Stewie wasn't sure if he'd really pushed a button with the dog, after his recent nights sitting up, drinking in despair. But then it appeared that it was all an act, as Brian suddenly grinned broadly.

"That's the best idea you've had all day." And he floated forward to capture the ball in his mouth again. He lifted his face out of the water and shook the water out of his eyes. "So, uh, how's...life?"

Stewie's water wings allowed him to move correctly, for once, and he caught the ball in his racket. "How's life? Really? Don't have any better conversational openers than that?"

The dog shrugged. "Hey, it's, you know, a nice thing to ask. It's common courtesy."

"Which explains why such a common mutt is asking. No, but I jest. Really, though, Brian, how do you think my life is going? You're there for most of it. And the parts that you're not there for… Well, do you really want me to explain the schematics of all my latest inventions or something? What are you going to get out of that?"

"It's just…" Brian scooped the ball up out of the water with his paw this time, when he failed to get it with his paddle. "It's just...you mentioned something awhile back." The canine's tone had turned more serious, more concerned. "A problem you said that you had? You said you'd tell me more about it when the time was right, and since we're, you know, out here having a good time and all, I was wondering...if this was the right time."

Stewie momentarily froze. "That's...that's…" He floundered for words.

"Are you, like, still handling it? I've been trying to honor your request, Stewie." Brian reached back and scratched the back of his neck with the paddle. "You asked me to leave it to you, and even though that felt, l-like, you know, kind of irresponsible of me, really, when I'm technically your stepfather… Even though I felt that way, I wanted to respect your wishes."

"W-w-well, of course I'm handling it," Stewie said quickly. "I'm handling it. I am. I'm han- What makes you think I haven't already handled it?"

With a casual shrug that was at odds with the suddenly intense way Brian was looking at him, the canine explained, "It's kind of hard to say. You've been acting more like yourself, but it's almost like...you've been...acting more like yourself, you know?"

"Acting? As in, faking?" Stewie squirmed a little under Brian's scrutiny. "I...I don't know what you're talking about, man." He chuckled, and hoped it didn't come out too nervous-sounding. He lobbed the ball back at Brian when the dog hit it his way. "You, you know what I think? I think you've just been under, like, a ton of stress, and you're distracted, and you're not really at the top of your game right now, not that anyone could blame you. So you're seeing things that aren't there. B-b-because I...I'll tell you what else I think, which is that I haven't been aware of acting any differently, and that's the truth."

His racket reached for the next ball and missed.

Brian was silent for a few long moments. When he spoke again, he only had this to say:

"Well. I'm here whenever you need me."

Stewie was pretty sure his heart skipped several beats after hearing that, but luckily, Brian didn't goad him into saying anything either too sappy or too snide by dwelling on the subject for any longer.

"So how long do you want to keep this splash paddle game up for, kid? Was there anything else you wanted to do here at the water park? C'mon, last chance this season!"

Stewie tapped the top of his racket gently against his chin. "Now that you mention it, we have been whacking this ball around for awhile, and it is growing a bit stale. But it's a water park. There isn't much to do other than, you know, frolic in the water. I don't think I'm up to swimming laps yet, which basically leaves…" The baby had a look about his surroundings, taking in the features of the practically-deserted park. Suddenly, he found himself unable to look away from the biggest feature there was.

"That!" he breathlessly exclaimed, pointing at the behemoth and feeling his thirst for adrenaline rear its head.

He was pointing at the biggest slide in the water park.

Brian first gaped, and then groaned.

"Yeah, uh, I don't think you're quite ready for that, Stewie," the canine stated, deadpan but firm. "Let's be serious. I think there's a splash pad on the other side of the locker rooms. Why don't we try that out?"

"Because that sounds boooooring, and that slide looks so super rad!" The toddler cried out plaintively. "C'mon, Brian, you know I can handle myself!"

"Stewie," said Brian sternly, "Look at you. And then, look at that sign over there." The dog pointed. "You have to be that tall to ride, and you're not even half that height. You might not be a quarter of that height. And the lifeguards have nothing better to do today than watch you. You're not sneaking past them unnoticed."

Stewie cocked his head to one side and looked at the canine hopefully. "Does that mean you have no problem with me riding…" He squinted at the hokey name of the slide. "...The Tube-O-Tacular?"

Brian, in return, squinted at Stewie skeptically. "Well, I wouldn't say no problem, Stewie, but I know you've put yourself in more dangerous situations than this, and- "

"And you're okay with that? My, oh my, stepdoggy, what would your redheaded wench have to say about that?"

The dog seemed to visually struggle with what to argue about first. "S-S-Stewie! C'mon, we've talked about calling your mother names- "

"Hmm, and as far as I'm concerned, that was rather a toned-down one…" hummed Stewie carelessly.

"And the point isn't that I'm okay with you putting yourself in potentially harmful situations, it's that at the end of the day, we're talking about a slide, when I've seen you- "

"Exactly!" cried Stewie, and began an enthusiastic but woefully awkward attempt to paddle himself over to the dog so they could get out of that pool. "It's just a slide, and the employees here are just moronic meth heads and vacuous Vicodin-poppers, so it shouldn't take too much to outsmart them. Now, help me carry out my plan or so help me god, I'll drag you into the toy shed and hit you with a Fun Noodle."

Soon they were strolling around the side of the large pool, their feet making wet little slaps against the concrete. Brian had asked just what the plan was supposed to be, to which Stewie replied that the dog just had to distract the lifeguard, that was all.

They passed behind the entrance to the park, where there was a ticket booth and a turnstile to get in. Stewie noticed Brian do a head-turn when a pair of women pushed through that turnstile- a pair of young, giggling women with- the baby supposed- curves in all the right places.

"Hey!" the child hissed, "Eyes front! The lifeguard is supposed to get distracted, not you!"

Brian's head snapped back around and the dog's eyes found Stewie's as the canine somehow managed to blush through his fur. "I- I wasn't checking them out! I was just, like, looking around! Appreciating the atmosphere, you know."

Stewie shrugged. "You don't have to defend yourself to me." (Although maybe slightly, on some level, it felt like he should have to…) The baby watched the girls walk over to the pool area and spread out their towels. "Just be glad your dream woman of a wife is out of town and didn't catch you ogling a couple of younger models."

"You know I'm anything but happy she's out of town," Brian said with a frown. "And there's...there's really no harm in looking, you know. Everybody does it. You'll understand when you're older."

All Stewie understood, rather depressingly, taking one more backward glance at those girls, was that they were what Brian liked. That's what the dog found attractive- long, shiny hair and legs for days, big breasts and pert butts. Well, Stewie might have one of those qualities, but that likely wasn't quite enough, was it?

However, he was busy at the moment, and today wasn't about either one of them angsting, so he'd ruminate over his completely hopeless love for Brian some other time.

They were drawing close to the Tube-O-Tacular.

"Distract him," Brian murmured, eyeing the man standing at the base of the stairs used to go up to the slide. "Isn't he supposed to be at the top so he can see how far down each person gets before he sends the next one after them?"

"Well, like you said, not many people here today," said Stewie. "But I suppose you could take it as a sign that he thinks nothing of shirking job responsibilities, in which case your part in this just got a little easier."

"I might not even have to distract him," Brian noted.

Somewhere between a teenager and a thirty year old, the man was loudly popping and smacking a wad of gum, occasionally pulling on the pink ropes of the gum and stretching them out in front of his face, staring at it, seemingly enraptured.

Stewie rolled his eyes. "Alright, you're on," he said in a stage whisper, and gave his stepdoggy a little shove forward.

Brian, bless his little canine, partner-in-crime heart, looked only a little bewildered before shuffling up until he was directly in front of the guy.

"Uh, hi. Thin, uh, thin crowd today, huh? Not, not much to do." Brian leaned casually against the railing of the stairs.

"Nope," muttered the guy and cracked his gum loudly. "Boring. As. Balls." He did a weird little maneuver where he threw his head back enough to bump his sunglasses up onto his forehead, only to have them fall back down again. "Boring as balls!" he proclaimed louder, and laughed.

Stewie stood off to the side and watched the interaction with disdainful bemusement.

Brian chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah...as balls. So...it's a good, uh, it's a nice day out, huh? Perfect way to go out on a high note, huh?"

"You wanna get high?" the guy asked, evidently misunderstanding, and shoved a hand into his shorts pocket.

"What? Um, no, um, not right now… I was just making conversation, dude. I'm here with my, my step- with my friend. But he's, like, more into the whole water park thing than me, you know."

"Oh," said the ne'er-do-well lifeguard, and stopped rifling around in his shorts pocket. "Yeah, man. It's boring as balls around here."

Stewie rolled his eyes so hard he was surprised it wasn't audible. He and Brian exchanged a covert glance of shared derision, and it made Stewie's heart flutter a little bit.

These. These are the moments I live for.

He crept forward until he was standing behind the stairs up to the slide.

"Well, then," said Brian with a forced chuckle and a shrug. "I bet you're happy this place is closing tomorrow."

"Not really," said the lifeguard, shaking his head. "Then I'll have nothing to do but hang out with my roommate. And he's even more boring. All he does is work, you know? That's, like, not what life's about. Life's about freeing your mind, but, like, most people don't understand that." He gave a sniff that was much more patrician than he'd probably ever want to be.

"Yeah, I heard a lot of that back in my Brown days," Brian observed.

"Like, dude! I get it! Like, you wanna spend all your time working so you can pay 70% of the rent and act like you're better than me, go for it!" He stuck out his tongue and made a fart sound while pinwheeling an arm in a haphazard gesture of brushing off the shackles of responsible rent-paying.

"Riiiight," said Brian through gritted teeth. "I, uh, I hear ya."

Stewie planted one foot on a step, then pulled up his other foot. He looked up at the rest of the tall height he had to climb, and slowly began to make his way up.

"Yo, man, where'd I set my Red Bull?" the guy wondered out loud, and began to cast about glances for his toxic energy drink. Before he could turn fully around, however, and possibly catch sight of Stewie, Brian darted between the man and the ladder and grabbed a can that had been placed on the ground.

"Here ya go!"

"Thanks, bruh," said the lifeguard. "It's best when it's kinda warm." And he took a long sip. When he came up for air, it was clear that he was choking.

"Yesss!" hissed Stewie under his breath in victory and pumped his fist.

Unfortunately, the choking fit was neither fatal nor longlasting. He eventually quieted down and explained in a raspy voice,

"The Red Bull made me swallow my gum, dude!"

He then fully chucked his can of Red Bull into the pool, which Stewie was fairly certain was against employee protocol.

Hmmm, maybe we didn't even have to distract this jackass. At the very most, perhaps we should have just pretended that I'm a little person or something.

"Yeah," said Brian in a deadpan voice, just barely audible now the higher up Stewie climbed. "That Red Bull's deadly. Have you ever considered that, like, maybe the way it gives you wings is by killing you? Because then you'd be an angel? Theoretically."

"Whoa," muttered the lifeguard guy. "That's deep."

Stewie was then just able to make out the lifeguard saying, "Well, it's been real, bruh, but I need to go get my clipboard from the top of the Tool-O-Rama or whatever. It says when I get a break."

Stewie froze mid-climb, and Brian loudly exclaimed,

"Um, wait! Uh, first… Lemme, lemme just...ask you something?"

"Nah, I'm not gay, man," the lifeguard replied.

"What?! No! No! I wasn't going to ask you out! I just… I-I-I wrote a song! Yeah, that's it! For the final day that the water park's open!"

Stewie snickered.

A song? Seriously, Brian? Oh, my stars, well, this ought to be good! ...Also, lifeguard douche thought you were gay! Ha!

Brian began to slowly sing a song to a very familiar tune, his baritone rising up loudly, if slightly shakily, over the whole pool area. Stewie looked back down over his shoulder and saw that his stepdoggy was shuffling his feet awkwardly side to side in an approximation of a dance while he sang,

"A-a-and so, the end is near

Y-yes it's true, the park is closing

Lifeguard, I'm sad to say

Even though, the park's so boring"

"As balls!" cried out the lifeguard, taking off his sunglasses and toasting the canine with them in lieu of the drink can he'd carelessly discarded.

"And yet it was once so full

With screaming kids, peeing in the pool

And, lazy parents, too

Just not tooooodaaaay!"

Stewie had climbed all of the steps by now and was sitting on the platform on top of the slide. He paused before going down, however. He peered down over the edge and caught sight of Brian evidently becoming slightly more comfortable with his performance, still doing that lame, dare Stewie say, "dad dance", but with less self-consciousness than he'd been doing before. Stewie smirked to himself and decided to let stepdoggy finish his song.

"Chills and thrills, there've been a few

But then again, it's par for the course

Bikini tops, that slid right off

I saw them all, without exception

We planned each water park trip

Knowing fat guys would clog the big slides

But, they're not around

At least not tooooooooo-daaaaaaaaay!"

Brian held out his notes and made a flourish with his arm that indicated a big finish as the scant number of water park dwellers could be heard to applaud. Stewie figured now was a safe time to go down the slide without missing any of that charismatic mutt's performance, so without further ado, he flung himself forward down the slide and felt himself being whisked away down its many twists and turns.

His cry of, "Whoooo-hoooo!" drowned out Brian's smattering of applause while on the way, and then he landed in the pool, making quite a splash for his size and punctuating Brian's big show nicely.

* * *

The dog's Prius pulled up into the driveway as the pair of smiling friends finally arrived home. All in all, there hadn't been a ton to do at the water park. Stewie had ended up sneaking onto a few more slides, and Brian's various performances, which had served as very efficient distractions, had made him the hit of the joint for the day. It had been a pretty fun day, capped off by a nice relaxing lounge in the pool, the two of them just floating next to each other and chit-chatting. Stewie thought that might have been his favorite part, so calm and...intimate.

Now, they were just sitting in the car on the towel-covered seats, basking in the passing light of day, the scent of the chlorine from the water still wafting through the air as strongly as when they left the water park. After a minute or two, Brian killed the engine and moved over to unbuckle Stewie. The child felt the dog's paw brush against his thigh, causing him to shiver slightly. He didn't flinch away, though. That was good, he thought. That was progress.

"Alright. Ready to head inside?"

Stewie redirected his gaze over to Brian, whose voice had snapped him out of his reverie.

"Uh, yeah."

He chuckled.

"Not planning to sit in this car all evening."

With that said, he hopped out of the car. Brian soon followed, taking a second to gather their towels before heading for the front door with Stewie close behind. Once inside, Brian tossed the infant his towel and pointed towards the stairs.

"Go finish drying off and get changed I'm going to…"

The dog stopped and lifted up his arm, taking a quick whiff before chuckling through a grimace.

"Heh. Yeah. I'm gonna hit the shower. Got that wet dog smell going on. I guess that chlorine can only mask so much, huh?"

The canine laughed again and reached down to ruffle the boy's hair before heading for the stairs. Stewie just sort of stood there for a second, watching his stepdoggy ascend the steps until he was out of sight. It was only then that he finally started to make his way towards the bathroom.

It didn't take the tyke long to get himself completely dried off and then, eventually, changed into his blue sleeper. He decided to forgo the diaper tonight, deciding it was simply more trouble than it was worth. Wasn't like Brian was going to find out or anything… He finished buttoning himself in and then proceeded out of his room, intent on heading back downstairs to wait for the dog, but as he stepped into the hallway, the sound of running water caught his attention.

He stopped and turned his attention towards Brian and Lois's room, remembering that his stepdoggy had come up here in order to shower. An image of Brian standing there with the warm water from the showerhead cascading over his furry body flashed into the infant's mind, and suddenly, that was all the kid could focus on. He gulped and walked up to the locked door, listening to the water as his mind continued trying to picture the wondrous sight that this damn door must be hiding away from him.

Brian. Bathing.

Of course, it wasn't like Brian was really in any kind of extra state of undress or anything, but there was still something pleasant and sexual about just the concept. At least, that's what Stewie thought. He was just so absolutely mad for that damn mutt. He rested his forehead against the door and sighed as he realized just how badly he wanted to be there in that shower with his dog.

"It's...not going to be like this forever...is it?"

The question came out in a hushed whisper. It was a thought that honestly scared the boy a little. He was just getting to a place where these emotions he felt towards Brian were finally starting to feel normal, but...that didn't make them hurt any less. How long would he have to deal with that?

He turned, now leaning his back against the door before sliding down to have a seat in front of it. His eyes closed. He knew he should just go downstairs and try and forget this, but this fantasy that was developing was so completely intoxicating. Maybe he could indulge himself...just for a little while, at least.

He focused in on the sound of the water again, picturing Brian, and then, eventually, picturing himself walking into the bathroom…

The child entered the bathroom and quietly shut the door behind him, trying to suppress the little giggle that was determined to bubble up from his throat. He just couldn't help himself. This opportunity that had been presented to him was just too delicious, too tempting. He quickly shed his clothing, watching the silhouette of the dog behind the shower curtain as he disrobed, feeling himself becoming more aroused by the second. He wasn't entirely sure how Brian was going to react, but this still felt absolutely right in a way he didn't entirely understand.

This was crazy, right?

Right. It most certainly was, but he was also crazy in love and he just couldn't take it anymore. He had to do something, so it was with this resolve that the infant stealthily pulled back the curtain just enough to sneak into the tub. The water on the floor of the tub was nice and warm and relaxing. The infant sighed happily at the sensation before directing his gaze toward the very reason he had come in here in the first place.

The dog was currently rubbing shampoo into his fur, so Stewie decided to sit back for a second and let the canine get all the suds rinsed out before he made his presence known. In the meantime, he found he was able to occupy himself quite nicely by focusing his attention on the dog's cute ass with the adorable little tail. He moaned and reached down to rub at his groin. He was already completely stiff, but that was no surprise to him.

Oh, the things this dog did to his body without even knowing…

Brian was finished, now. Stewie saw his chance. He casually walked up behind the canine and then wrapped his arms around that hunky animal's waist.

Brian jumped, yelping a little bit in shock at the sudden, unexpected contact.

Stewie laughed and gave the dog an affectionate squeeze.

"Stewie?" the dog said sounding incredibly confused. "What are you doing back there, kiddo?"

The child grimaced and shook his head.

"Don't call me that."

He began petting at the dog's stomach in a way that he hoped was taken as sensual.

"It's demeaning."

He felt the canine go a little stiff against him, and he took that to mean his intent on being there must be coming across pretty clearly.

"Y-You should…"

The animal's words were coming out strained as he tried to pull himself together enough to speak. Stewie found it incredibly cute.

Brian cleared his throat and placed his paw over Stewie's hand, which had started to wander lower and lower.

"You should go. I don't know what's gotten into you, but this is...this is wrong."

The boy huffed and shook off the canine's paw. Brian made no move to put distance between them. Stewie knew this meant something.

"Frankly, Brian, I don't really think you want me to go."

He began petting at the fur again, moving his hand ever lower. The dog's breath hitched, basically confirming the baby's assumption. He laughed a little sinisterly and leaned up as far as he could to whisper in the animal's ear.

"In fact, I think you actually like what I'm doing. I think you want me to keep going."

He chuckled again and tightened his grip on the dog.

"You certainly aren't fighting enough to prove otherwise."

He could hear the canine's breathing become more and more sporadic as his hand drew closer and closer towards its destination.

"St-Stewie...please."

It was a desperate plea, but Stewie wasn't about to show mercy, now. He had Brian right where he wanted him, and there was no way in hell that he was letting go. He kissed the dog's back gently.

"You're so irresistible when you're desperate."

And, then, reached down to wrap his hand around the erection that the dog was now shamefully sporting.

Brian gasped and leaned forward, bracing his paws against the front of the shower as the water poured over him and down his back onto Stewie.

"Holy shit!"

The infant had to keep himself from bursting out into laughter, something that surely would have ruined the moment. He couldn't help but find Brian's response to just this simple touch hilarious, though. Was it really this easy? Jesus, he should have done this a long time ago…

He began stroking the shaft, taking in the pathetic little whines and whimpers emitting from the canine as he just stood there and continued to allow this sinful act to continue.

"St-Ste-Stewie…"

The dog could barely speak through his panting breath.

"St-Stop."

The baby shook his head once again, and stated his response bluntly.

"No."

He then gave the dog a teasing squeeze before proceeding to pick up speed. The infant sighed happily and leaned in closer, resting the side of his head against the animal's back as he continued to jack him off.

"Tell me, Brian, has Lois ever done anything like this for you?"

The shower cut off abruptly.

Stewie's eyes shot open as he was pulled out of his intense, erotic fantasy. He was sitting there on the floor, clutching himself through his sleeper. The boy hit the back of his head against the door and cursed in frustration.

"Dammit! I was so close, too!"

His heart was beating rapidly. What he had just imagined taking place had been so unlike his other fantasies. Up until this point, he had basically always imagined himself and Brian as various characters in romantic scenarios, and on top of that, it had always been Brian who had made the first move. This time, though… This time it had been much more...real. The way he had taken such strong initiative in his fantasy was honestly a little shocking, not because he couldn't see himself being that bold, necessarily. No, that wasn't it. It had actually felt like the most natural thing in the world to take control like that. Maybe it was just that realization alone the infant was finding so surprising. He didn't know. The fact of the matter was that there was just too much to process, at the moment.

From his side of the door, he heard the bathroom door beyond Brian and Lois's bedroom opening. He sighed.

"Dammit…"

He knew he had to move, now. Brian would be walking out of there at any moment. He stood up, grimacing slightly at the uncomfortable sensation of his stiffy rubbing against the fabric of his clothes. He groaned. Why had he gone and gotten himself worked up into such a state? Now, he had to go downstairs and try and act normally around Brian. Hopefully, his little "problem" wouldn't stick around for too long.

Not wanting to waste any more time, Stewie began toddling off towards the stairs. Regretting his actions more and more with each unpleasant step.

* * *

"Goodnight, Stewie."

The boy looked at the silhouette of his stepdoggy standing in the doorway smiling at him. He offered a small smile back.

"Goodnight, Brian."

And with that, the dog shut the door, leaving the room in mostly pitch blackness, the only source of light now being the streetlamp outside that was shining faintly through the curtain-drawn window.

The child lay there, finding that he wasn't tired in the slightest. Though, this really wasn't unusual, by now. It had sort of become the trend over the past several days. In this case, though, there were some very particular things on his mind. The past twelve hours or so had been a bit of a roller coaster. Overall, today had been one of the most pleasant he'd had in a while. He smiled as he thought about how much fun he and Brian had had together. It was borderline perfect, in his opinion. There was simply no denying that he and Brian just...clicked in a really special way…

And, that was both an uplifting and depressing thought.

It was uplifting because Stewie did want that connection with Brian, now. He wanted it more than anything, no matter how much he had tried to convince himself otherwise in the past, how hard he had fought against that simple, basic truth. And, well, honestly they'd had that connection for a good while, now, but today… Today seemed to confirm something major to him, and that was that the chemistry between him and Brian ran deep, much deeper than he probably could have ever anticipated. And, he felt like what he and Brian had was something that would only continue to strengthen with time. The evidence was certainly there, after all. It was almost hard to believe just how different things were now to only a few months ago. They were...best friends… Right? That's what he was now? Brian's best friend? His best friend in spite of also being his...stepson?

The infant shuddered at that last thought but refused to dwell on it.

How amazing was that, though?

The baby sighed and rolled over onto his side. Rupert was on the other side of the crib already asleep.

Somehow, he had managed to overcome that conflict of interest and become something vital to the dog. But… It just didn't feel like enough. Because their relationship was, indeed, growing stronger over time, and for Stewie, that meant...his feelings were growing stronger, as well. Those two things were correlated inextricably, which meant that… Things were only going to get so much harder, weren't they?

Stewie knew the answer to that question, and it terrified him. He felt like he had done good keeping up appearances so far, but how much longer could he really expect to keep his feelings hidden when they grew stronger by the day? The hour? The minute? ...The second?

The child groaned and returned to his position on his back. Nothing felt comfortable, right now, and his mind was just buzzing with thoughts that he could only just barely process.

That fantasy he'd had…

It was amazing that he'd managed to keep his cool in front of Brian for the rest of the night, after that. It certainly hadn't been easy. Kind of a shame to cap off such an otherwise perfect day with so much stress. Such was his life now, though, just filled with ups and downs, no longer able to focus on much else except for that goddamn, wonderful dog of his.

He sighed again, though there was a smile on his lips, now.

How in the world could something be so simultaneously fantastic and terrible?

* * *

"Who is Catherine de' Medici."

The dog's mouth had opened in a vain attempt to answer, but he quickly shut it once Stewie beat him to the punch...again. Stewie chuckled and then turned his attention back to the game show he and the dog were currently watching, waiting for his answer to be confirmed...again.

"Who is Marie?" the contestant answered, unsure.

"No." the host informed bluntly.

There was a pause as the other contestants were given an opportunity to try and answer. A second later the buzzer sounded, indicating their time was up.

"Who is Catherine Medici." the host confirmed.

The child turned his head to smile smugly at the animal sitting next to him.

The dog just rolled his eyes, obviously trying to not let Stewie's gloating get to him.

"How in the world do you know all this stuff, kid?"

The infant scoffed at the question.

"Uh, hello? Genius."

He pointed at his big noggin.

Brian just shook his head.

"Oh, yeah. Of course."

He then proceeded to mutter under his breath.

"Still doesn't mean you should know everything…"

Stewie caught the comment, but decided not to make anything of it. Brian was just being a poor sport, after all. But, seriously, he should have known what he was getting into when he said something about making a competition out of what they were watching.

The next question was asked. Stewie answered before the host had even finished reading it.

"What is white."

The contestant gave the same answer. He was right.

Brian threw his hands in the air.

"Oh, come on! Why in the world would he even know that one!"

Stewie just shrugged.

"Must I really state the obvious once more?"

The canine reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose as if in exasperation...but Stewie could see clearly that his stepdoggy was actually trying to hide a smile.

The boy nudged at the dog playfully with his elbow.

"You know, we can stop whenever you want. All you have to do is admit your defeat to my superior intellect."

He snickered at the forced glare that Brian shot his way after that comment.

"Oh, you would just love that wouldn't you."

A "sarcastic" laugh of amusement sounded from the dog.

"You have a better chance of going back to preschool tomorrow."

He sighed.

"Seriously, what is going on over there? How long does it take to find someone who is qualified to handle a bunch of preschoolers?"

Stewie tilted his head at this, not sure whether to take offense or not at Brian's apparent disappointment that a suitable replacement for his preschool class had yet to be found.

"Well, jeez, thanks. You know, if you wanted me gone, I could have just stayed upstairs and hung out with Rupert."

Brian's eyes shot wide open and he began shaking his head vigorously while waving his hands in front of himself in a defensive motion.

"N-No! I don't want you gone!"

He stopped waving his arms and froze.

Stewie was similarly stricken, completely caught off guard by the dog's sudden, desperate outburst.

There was just silence between them for several moments. Stewie just stared at Brian, boring his eyes into the dog's as he tried to make out the canine's current expression. There was a vulnerability there that Stewie wasn't sure he'd ever seen before from Brian. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Stewie had seen something similar that day Lois had basically left Brian at the altar. God, how could he ever forget that day… This, in particular, was new, though. It was exciting to the child due to the implications it might hold, Brian wanting so desperately for him to stay.

Along with all of this, though, there was also shock behind those eyes. Had Brian surprised himself with his own reaction to what was honestly mostly just a teasing comment? (Even if Stewie was trying to weed out any possible negative feelings Brian may have been harboring toward him after their last few days spent together.) Well, Stewie certainly didn't have to worry about that, anymore.

They continued to remain quiet until the pressure must have finally gotten to Brian. He turned his head away and coughed into his fist awkwardly. Stewie knew he was hoping they could just move on, but…

"I-I'm not going anywhere."

The dog simply nodded his head and smiled slightly before saying, "What is a fair weather friend."

Stewie's eyes blinked in confusion before he remembered what they had been doing earlier. He redirected his attention to the television just in time to see Brian's answer confirmed. The infant chuckled.

"Well, I guess you were bound to get one, eventually."

Brian gave him a gentle punch in the arm, and the day proceeded on.

* * *

"I don't care

if you believe it.

That's the kind of house

I live in.

And I hope

We never leave it."

The dog closed the book and set it on the little plastic table in the baby's room.

"Alright. That's it. I think it's late enough, now."

The child, who was currently sitting in the canine's lap simply shrugged.

"Not exactly his best work, but hey, even the greats had their off days, even someone with such a brilliant philosophical mind as Dr. Seuss."

The boy hummed thoughtfully.

"The Sneetches was still much more engaging and thought provoking."

Brian nodded his head and stood up from the plastic chair he had been sitting in with Stewie. He carried the sleeper-clad tyke over to his crib, lowering the bars before setting the infant down on the mattress. The dog tucked the baby in, and then, raised the bars back up.

"Goodnight, Stewie."

Stewie smiled at the canine.

"Goodnight, Brian."

The dog smiled back, and then, proceeded to just stand there. He looked to be thinking about something. Stewie just kept looking at him curiously. After a minute, though, the child felt compelled to speak up.

"Uhhh, Brian?"

The canine jolted, blinking his eyes like he had just been pulled out of deep thought.

"Oh!"

He chuckled awkwardly and reached up to scratch behind his neck.

Stewie tilted his head at him.

"You, uh… You thinking about something there?"

The dog chuckled again, shaking his head.

"Ye-Yeah. I'm thinking...about something."

They looked at each other once more. Stewie inquired further.

"Is it… Is it something you want to talk about?"

Brian shook his head again.

"No, kid. It's alright."

He kissed two of his furry digits and then reached through the bars to touch them to Stewie's cheek.

"It's a good something."

Stewie shuddered, his mind racing as it began to process all the possibilities that made sense when pairing the dog's actions to that statement.

Is he...is he talking about me?

Whether or not Stewie would have asked that question out loud, he didn't get the chance, since, in the next moment, Brian had turned on his heels and made his way out of the room, shutting off the light and closing the door as he exited.

So, Stewie was left to just lie there lost in his thoughts. Such was the trend nowadays…

He so desperately wanted to know what the dog had just been thinking about. It had to be about him! Brian had been looking right at him, and he had said that it was something good. And, well...as far as Stewie knew, stepdoggy unfortunately didn't exactly have much good going on at the moment...

Despite that, though, these past couple of days had been really nice! Brian had been in a much better mood when compared to only a few days prior, and Stewie knew that was because of him.

Maybe Brian actually realized that?

Maybe he was beginning to see how special their bond was, even if it wasn't exactly in the way that Stewie felt about it?

Stewie wanted to believe that this was the case, and if it was anyone else, he would have no issue just going up to them and asking for the answers to these questions directly. But...things were just never that easy when it came to Brian, not anymore.

The infant yawned and rolled over onto his side. He really needed to get his rest tonight. All this staying up late wasn't doing him any good, and it wasn't like him lying here thinking about all the questions he had was going to bring him any closer to the answers he wanted, anyway. Besides, he was honestly just excited to wake up to the next day. Another day with just him and Brian…

He closed his eyes and sighed happily, eager to see what tomorrow would bring for him and the dog of his dreams.

* * *

It brought him a rude awakening with Brian uttering a string of swears while lying on the floor.

The daylight slightly burning his sleepy eyes, Stewie blinked in confusion and propped himself up on an elbow in bed.

"Brian?" he muttered groggily and yawned.  
"Oh, good, you're up," the canine responded, turning toward him but making no move to get up off the floor. He then shifted his gaze downward and glared at a mess of building blocks. "Why were all these left out on the floor?"

"Um, I just didn't get around to putting them back?" Stewie slowly sat up in bed while rubbing the crust out of his eyes. He dropped his hands back down to his sides and regarded Brian warily. "They've been like that for the past two days and you never said anything…" The child had somewhat of a bad feeling in his gut. Not like a really ominous feeling of portent, like people who claimed that they knew that a really bad car crash was coming, or a killer shark was about to attack, but a niggling sense of aversion to Brian's attitude. The dog didn't seem to be in a very good mood, judging by his cranky tone of voice.

"Did you step on one?" asked the baby, and winced in sympathy.

"No, but they did trip me," said Brian, finally climbing to his feet. "I came in here to make sure your room was all straightened- "

"And you forgot to look where you were going. Roger that, Rover." Stewie grabbed out of the bars of his crib and catapulted over in one fluid movement, landing nimbly on his feet. "What time is it?"

"Already ten in the morning, so it's high time you were up," Brian replied, with his paws actually on his hips.

With his goddamn paws actually on his goddamn hips.

Oh, no…

The niggling sensation in Stewie's gut changed into a sinking feeling.

"Brian, what gives? What are- what are you doing? Why are you going all Ward Cleaver on me?"

Brian looked at him in slight surprise. There was a long pause, during which they held eye contact, and Stewie thought he glimpsed the same sadness and stress in the dog's eyes that had been there every time Brian had forgotten to have fun with him during this time they'd been spending alone together in the house.

So Brian was feeling depressed and overwhelmed again. Well, once more, Stewie would snap him out of it.

But for the moment, he wouldn't be snapping anyone out of anything. Not while he was getting snapped at.

All at once, Brian turned away.

"Did you know that your little table over there is a mess? You've got papers and crayons all over it- "

"Yeah," said Stewie sardonically, cutting across him crisply. "Because that's where I draw."

"Well, anyway, that's not the most important thing right now," said Brian, walking up to him. "Come on. Let's get you dressed. I need your help with something. We got a big day ahead of us."

The infant cocked his head at the dog.

Let's get me dressed? Let's get you out of stepdoggy mode.

"Really? What have we got planned for the day? A trip to the ice cream parlor? Or maybe the park? We could have a picnic, or even- we could throw a Frisbee around!" Stewie was already warming to his task, starting to become genuinely enthused by these suggestions that would hopefully cheer Brian up. "Because, really, Brian, I think the most important thing is making sure you don't lose yourself again in feeling overwhelmed by your responsibilities. I- "

"Actually, Stewie, right now, I kinda need to take care of my responsibilities." Brian didn't speak harshly to him this time, but his voice was still markedly humorless. "Lois just called me about a half hour ago. She and the others were just about to catch a plane home." He suddenly grinned broadly. "She's got Chris with her! He's doing great! Well, I mean, I think he's a little sad to leave his- well, to leave the girl he likes, but other than that… Isn't it great that he's coming home, safe and sound?"

Actually, it would've been nicer if they'd all caught some kind of third world virus and perished… Stewie thought hatefully. Out loud, though, all he said was,

"Yea-ah. That really is great, Brian. You could've mentioned that first, you know."

The dog had the good grace to actually look a little embarrassed. He even pulled on his collar uncomfortably. "Oh. Heh. Heh. Yeah, I guess I was just too excited, I forgot to tell you at first but of course you would want to know that your big brother's coming home."

God, you're so fucking fake. Fake at being a good stepfather, his harridan housewife probably even thinks he's fake at being a good husband- and she knows phony…

And...and you're even fake at being a good friend.

'It's truly a miracle," Stewie responded flatly. "Now I'll finally be able to sleep at night. Oh, wait…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You just woke up. But listen. I need your help with the laundry. You can sort those colors for me. Whadaya say, huh? We should get started right away, because there's other stuff that needs done around the house. I want Lois to come home to a spotless house."

Stewie just shook his head, but felt either too groggy or too defeated to fight with Brian about slaving away over housework. So, he turned and padded on over to the changing table, hopping on up to the little stool that stood in front of it, and from there, on up to the table itself. He sat on the edge and swung his legs back and forth sadly, not looking at the dog. Only now, avoiding eye contact with Brian while on the changing table wasn't because the tyke was turning it into a sexually-charged event in his own head.

Not with the cock blocker coming home.

* * *

"I think things are really going to be different when Lois gets home, Stewie," Brian said with what seemed like at least semi-forced enthusiasm as he watched Stewie sit in a heap of clothes discarded on the floor and sort through a basket of more laundry.

Stewie just hummed, not understanding what Brian could be getting at. The baby knew things would be different now that his hag of a mother was coming home, but Brian almost certainly wasn't fixated on how having that vile woman around again was going to impact their friendship for the worse.

"I mean, we can all learn something from this, right?" said Brian with a chuckle.

"Not me," Stewie argued. "I'd outgrown any lessons this household could've taught me by the time I was born. Except how not to wind up in white trash suburban ennui, that is."

Brian blinked at him, seeming to debate within himself whether or not to scold Stewie for this statement. He opted for a critical look instead, but Stewie simply rolled his eyes, far from chastened.

"Well, I've, uh, I've learned how better to talk to Chris. That I need to be careful that he doesn't take things a little too literally…"

"Oh, you had to learn that he needs things explained to him in simple terms? Hmm. Well done you," Stewie muttered, and picking up a clothespin that happened to be laying on the floor, used it to poke at a pair of Chris's underwear distastefully. He crinkled his nose as he pinched the clothespin around the offensive lump of foulness and moved it into another basket containing whites- or what passed for them in the Griffin household.

"And now," said Brian, choosing to let Stewie's snide remarks slip by yet again, "Lois and I have had our first fight, so it's good to get that out of the way." His tone of voice had altered somewhat, making it sound like he was almost musing to himself.

Stewie snorted so hard that he vowed never to do it again, lest any snot he had in his nose shoot straight back into his genius brain and blow a hole clean through it.

"That. Was far. From your guys' first fight."

Brian gave him another look of displeasure, but this one was more straight-on, and more...almost...disappointed? Like he was let down that Stewie wouldn't let him have his delusions.

"First major fight, then." The canine's expression softened. "You know, when, when your mom and I have a disagreement, kiddo, you don't have to worry. Just because people have an argument doesn't mean there's a big problem."

I loathe you, you stupid dog. You're trying to condescend to me about this? To me? I just recently learned what love is, and I already understand it better than you! You stupid, stupid dog. I loathe you so much. I...I love you… And I loathe that I love you.

"Oh, you don't have to tell me, dog," Stewie replied with seeming equanimity. "After all, we're at each other's throats all the time. It doesn't always mean something. Then again, sometimes it does. Sometimes it means I wanna hang you by your tail with a rusty nail right here in this basement."

Brian blinked and, amusingly enough, actually took a step backward. Stewie smirked at having rattled him. A silence fell for several moments.

"Anyway, th-thanks for doing your part in getting the house ready for your mom's homecoming, Stewie," the dog said after a bit. He cleared his throat. "Once she's back, I can return to work, and Lois can watch you all day instead of me. I'm sure you've been missing her." The sarcasm that dipped into the canine's voice was oddly reassuring, and when the kid looked up at him and they exchanged mildly combative glances, it felt like their typical old prickly rapport that Stewie so cherished.

"The preschool can't find a new teacher soon enough," the kid responded with a loud and beleaguered sigh. "And really, 'thank you'? That's the best you can do? This isn't my 'part', either, Brian. I'm a freaking infant! I mean, look at me!" The baby placed a kitchen towel around his head in an approximation of a head scarf and then daintily picked up two fistfuls of other laundry items and let them rain dramatically down around him. "I'm drowning in drudgery here, man, like some old Russian babushka with gnarled hands like old tree branches and permanent blisters from all da scrubbing," he tried his best to slip into a Russian accent. "Who just toils away with disgusting chores day and night and prays for her oppressed, gray, and joyless existence to be over. But of course those are always the people who live to be a hundred."

"Yeesh, you're dramatic," Brian chuckled. "You alright, there? Should I ring up Dr. Zhivago to come check on you?"

"He wasn't a shrink," Stewie responded, at last thinking better of his gag and pulling the dirty rag from off his head. "He wouldn't be able to help with the very understandable bad mood that I'm in because the ginger gorgon is returning to the family home."

"Yeah, alright, Stewie. Well, at least one person is very glad she's coming back, and to say I'm sorry for even making her go on this trip in the first place, I'm going to make sure this house looks as good as it's ever looked."

"Which won't be too hard," Stewie quipped, unable to let any opportunity to be insulting pass him by. He took to balling up articles of dirty laundry and hurling them into their appropriate baskets, but his stepdoggy was just ignoring his embittered behavior at this point.

"Well, if you've got this, I think I'll head upstairs. There's a ton of other stuff that needs cleaning." And that being said, Brian walked over to the bottom of the stairs, ready to make his way out of the basement and leave the laundry to Stewie's tiny hands and non-colorblind eyes.

"And hey, kid- " The dog stopped with his hand on the railing and looked over his shoulder. "I really do appreciate your help. Just, whenever you're done...meet me upstairs. Okay? Okay, cool." And Brian jogged up the stairs and out of view.

Stewie sat surrounded by his piles of laundry and gave a hefty sigh.

"Well, if today has taught me anything," he said aloud to himself, "it's that when I have an establishment of my own, the first order of business is going to be to build a device to sort laundry for me." The tyke stood and put his hands on his hips, eyeing up the piles of laundry disdainfully and wondering just how it had gotten to this point. His mother's uselessness was truly staggering.

"I guess it's taught me something else, too," Stewie continued, this time in a softer voice. "It's taught me that whatever sort of friendship that dog and I have, it doesn't have nearly as much influence over him as his baffling infatuation with that wretched woman does. As long as she's around, I can't get anything that I want from him. Unrequited love is bad enough, but sometimes...this feels like an unrequited friendship."

Wow, you are really close to sliding headfirst into a slump of depression if you keep up this way of thinking, his inner voice scolded. Your inner monologue is starting to sound as tiresomely absurd as Meg's melodramatic antics and attempted suicide stunts.

The child resolved to just go on with doing the laundry. It wasn't the most enjoyable thing in the world, but at least he had some peace and quiet down here, and keeping busy was always good at curtailing his mental machinations and neuroses from running too wild. Even if it was a hopeless menial task, it seemed. Besides, Brian would be happy once all the laundry was done. Although Stewie didn't exactly care about making that damned mutt happy right now, maybe there would be time later for stepdoggy to chill out and actually act like someone pleasant to be around for awhile longer before the goon squad came home.

"Goddamn it, Brian, why do you have to let her brainwash you so easily?" Stewie groused as he was finishing up the sorting. He decided just at the spur of the moment to move some pieces of laundry around and sort them incorrectly. Just a few. He decided that he could live with that. After all, there was no need to make Lois too happy, was there?"

He shoved the first basketful into the washer with some detergent, and then surveyed the room for something he could stand on to access the dials near the top of the machine. In the end, he had to settle for turning the laundry basket over, but it proved to give him enough height to reach what he needed to. After this was done, the baby paused and wondered if he should stay in the basement with the laundry in progress, or go upstairs until the buzzer went off.

As he was trying to make up his mind, his gaze fell on the old couch that had been the site of the, er, sight that had changed his life forever. God, it already seemed like ages ago. And as Stewie looked at the faded, worn-out old thing, he was drawn to it like a moth to flame, wondering if Brian spent much time down here in the basement… Not just doing that, but other things, as well.

Despite the dilapidated piece of furniture having served such an erotic thing, and despite Stewie having fantasized about getting his sexy on whilst lying on it, too, right now, in reality and in the light of day, he really didn't want to touch it at all. It really did look like it should be abandoned on a curb somewhere. However, as he looked about the space the couch was in, he observed that there were some boxes stacked around it, and that piqued his curiosity. He couldn't remember having ever looked into them before.

He struck gold- or silver, at least- with the first one he opened. It seemed to have a bunch of textbooks on top. The first one he picked up appeared to be...a college English textbook? From Brown? This was perplexing to say the least. Oh, well. The Griffin house had any number of perplexing items in it, most of which had served a part in his late fat ass father's many unfathomable schemes. How this would play a role, Stewie had no idea, but he also decided it wasn't worth it to speculate. He'd never actually held a university textbook in his hands before, and he decided to make the most of it.

"English Lit? Excellent," the baby observed, and took the book over to the upturned laundry basket, sat down, and started to read something about some fellow named Faust.

While he read, the washing machine, which he was leaning up against, started to rock about slightly. The child briefly wondered how bad of a sign this was, but when things otherwise continued on as normal for the next couple of minutes, he turned back to his reading and ignored it. Well...maybe not ignored it completely. The machine's rhythmic jostling vibrated not unpleasantly against his back, almost like a little massage. The baby hummed in contentment, wriggling back against the washer, and maybe even pushing out his bottom so it made further contact, too.

He read on for several pages while simply enjoying the vibrations. It was actually a rather pleasant way to kill time while waiting for the laundry to finish up.

I wonder if that raggabrash matriarch would spend more time down here doing her housework if she sat back against the washing machine with one of her dippy little flibbertigibbet ladies magazines and felt how...agreeable these sensations are.

As he paused to have that thought, the child raised his head and found himself suddenly gazing off in the direction of that grubby old couch, and once again, the memory of Brian on that couch floated back to him.

The way the machine stirred against his hiney began to have an insidious effect. He'd been sitting there, sinking into the sensations and enjoying their massaging effect, and now he felt rather...good, and relaxed, and...primed for thinking about other diverting sensations.

Once the boy realized what was happening, he squeezed his eyes shut in frustration and pinched at the bridge of his nose. He groaned, but a vision of stepdoggy jacking his doggy dick and bucking his hips into his paw danced before his closed eyelids.

Damnation! My libido has the worst timing…

Is it the worst timing, though?

Stewie pushed his buttocks further back against the unsteady rocking of the washing machine. He might have even grinded them against it as he felt a familiar tugging in his groin.

He was alone in the laundry room… Brian, that kiss-ass cur, was busy upstairs, trying to tidy up every square inch of the house that wasn't laundry that he couldn't sort. It would almost certainly be awhile before he saw hide or hair of that dog again…

Stewie opened his eyes and, this time, quite deliberately gazed at the couch. He allowed himself to remember everything he could about that night, including the dream he'd had after catching Brian in the act. Almost without realizing what he was doing, he hopped to his feet, his mind busy mulling over literal ass-kissing and what it would be like if the dog pulled off Stewie's overalls and… The tyke blushed and jumped up on top of the tipped-over laundry basket, and tentatively pressed his pelvis up against the washing machine.

"WHOOOOOAAA, NELLY!"

The boy's knees knocked together and he didn't stay like that for long. Even through the padding of his diaper, the sensation was...really fucking intense! He could hardly remain standing. God, he was horny as hell, though. Hadn't he just been reading peacefully five minutes ago? What the devil was happening to him?!

Well, this all escalated rather quickly…

Brian, whining and desperate and getting himself off on the manky old couch in the basement… So full of animal need that he Just. Couldn't. Take it anymore. Brian, in the dream, welcoming the boy into his arms, urging Stewie to put his little hand around stepdoggy's throbbing cock.

(Although, as Stewie looked back over his shoulder at the couch, he still couldn't return to a place where it was at all doable to visualize himself on it, so he mentally transported them to his room.)

Brian, in another dream, in that slick leather jacket, being such a bad boy, oh yes he was, oh yes he was…

Stewie climbed frantically on top of the washer, gripping onto the back of it for dear life as he laid on his side. He flopped and turned urgently like a fish floundering on dry land as he alternatively brought his ass and his crotch into full contact with the machine. He was glad that the rumbles of the washing machine covered up any sounds he might be making. (Mostly soft little whines or quiet grunts, but there was an uncontrollable surprised yelp of pleasure thrown in here and there.)

The child couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like this. Some might regard him as, by nature, an out-of-control child, but the truth was, the vast majority of the time, he was fully in command of his behavior. If it wasn't always nice or societally appropriate, or, well..legal, that was everybody else's problem. But now, he found himself totally embarrassed by what he was doing...and just as unable to stop himself.

He must look a sight. Stewie didn't suppose his desperate and graceless writhing around looked very attractive. If anyone were to see him...christ, he'd be mortified. What was he doing? He had such disdain for himself, at this moment.

And yet, somehow, that didn't stop him.

In fact, he wasn't even passively receiving the vibrations on his bulge anymore, but actually humping the sodding washing machine…

"I loathe myself," the baby moaned, his voice shaking slightly with the motion of the machine. This was a whole new level of humiliation. So hard-up that I can't help seeking my release from something as asexual and prosaic as this common household apparatus…

He was acting so whorish. Albeit...like an inexperienced one.

Rolling around like an untrained whore…

"Ahhhhh, I'm a disgrace!" the infant suddenly sang out, and then the buzzer was sounding, and his body went turgid, and pleasure swam through him with the relief of all his tension as he died a little death in embarrassment.

* * *

The rest of the day passed in a blur. It wasn't that it was much fun. Rather, Stewie suspected that time seemed to fly because he kept wishing for it to slow down so he and Brian could have a little more fun before the commandant crone returned to the house. Surely there would be some time in between washing clothes, scrubbing windows, and dusting furniture to just enjoy being friends before Brian had to go back to being stepdoggy first and foremost. However, that mangy mutt remained in a persistent mania throughout the day, cleaning like his life depended on it… Well, at least his love life. And maybe it did. Stewie sure as hell wasn't going to pretend that Brian and Lois's farcical relationship made any sense.

In fact, the only time Brian stopped being a work dog was during dinner, which was a hastily-eaten meal of Indian food that they got delivered. Stewie was technically supposed to continue helping out, but Stewie managed to argue his way into taking a less active role.

If he's going to start treating me like just a dumb baby again, then, I guess I shouldn't be breaking my perhaps not-fully-developed back doing housework all day. I should be, I don't know, chewing on my feet or something…

So Stewie didn't end up having to do all that many chores, and even when he was supposed to be tidying his room, he only humored the currently humorless mutt by putting away his blocks and then a couple of books he'd left setting out on his table.

"That's all he's getting out of me!" the baby informed Rupert, as he kicked back in the crib and vented to his bear. Brian came in shortly after to check on his progress and shot the kid a dirty look while mumbling frustrated things under his breath, but Stewie just continued to sit back and watch Brian play maid.

Yeah...that's right, stretch it out...that shelf's pretty high. Oh, no, you dropped the firetruck. Guess you'd better bend over and pick it up. We might be needing it… Whooo-eee, is it getting hot in here or is it just me?

At the end of the night, Stewie had some hope that things were about to take a turn for the better when Brian agreed that they were done cleaning the house and could watch a movie on the couch together. They picked some dumb sci-fi abomination that they happened to find on T.V., but it did have the benefit of being unintentionally funny, and it gave Stewie the chance to gleefully point out all of the science that it got wrong.

Unfortunately, Brian, who'd worked himself ragged for THAT woman, fell sound asleep at about the movie's midpoint . Stewie, somewhat dejected, continued watching until the show's sad end, chuckling quietly to himself here and there, but all in all with a slightly heavy-hearted feeling as the impression of having been defeated sunk his mood and sunk him down into eventual sleep.

But...defeat isn't supposed to be mine… was his last coherent thought before the night ended for him on a low point.

* * *

The first thing he heard when he woke up was,

"Aaaaaaah! What the hell?!"

And then a paw kicked him in the back.

"My, what a sweet greeting."

That voice… That awful, awful nasally voice that I hoped never to hear again.

"Lois!" Brian cried, and Stewie sat up to see the dog flailing around to get into a seated position on the couch. "Wha- wha- ?"

"No, don't worry about it, Brian. I fully expected to have to take a cab home from the airport because you were still asleep at noon," came the withering response from the withered old witch.

Stewie rubbed at his aching lower back and glared at the new arrivals.

"I'm home, Brian!" screeched Chris, bounding forward with his arms raised as though making a truly triumphant return, rather than being a runaway who'd gotten dragged back home by his mommy.

You just couldn't go the distance, tubster, thought Stewie disdainfully. If I was able to make a home away from this abode of atrocities, I'd never come back.

"I sure did love Amsterdam!" Chris declared.

"What? Um, Chris? Weren't you in South America?" asked Brian in confusion, while he was still practically cowering in the corner of the couch, watching Lois with apprehension.

"All I know is there were a lot of pipes and titties!" Chris responded buoyantly.

"Well...great," said Brian, dumbfounded, his mouth hanging slightly open.

He must have uttered that before he could catch himself.

Lois sniffed loudly. "Oh, you think that's great?" She sighed, and dropped her suitcase on the floor. "I need some coffee. Irish style," she declared, and started walking toward the kitchen.

"I'm here, too!" said Meg cheerfully, popping out from behind Chris.

Brian looked straight past her and at Lois's retreating back.

"W-w-welcome home!" he offered weakly.

"Glad to be back," his sweet and loving wife replied, totally unconvincingly.

Stewie watched Brian's head droop. When the canine hopped off the sofa and followed Lois into the kitchen, the boy noticed that the canine's tail was droopy, too. Something stung in Stewie's heart.

He was then very nearly squashed when Chris hurled his porcine form onto the couch. The T.V. switched on and Stewie was left standing in the middle of the living room in a state of semi-shock. This had all happened so fast…

Meg, thick, expressionless, and useless, continued to stand near the door like a tree trunk stands in the yard when people have forgotten to have it removed.

Stewie strained his ears and could just barely hear that, in the kitchen, a conversation was going on between Brian and his ungrateful shrew. Stewie would bet all his Monopoly money that she wouldn't even notice or care that Brian had spent all the previous day slaving away to clean the house from top to bottom. It made the infant's blood boil.

He really does deserve this, though. He chose her over me yesterday, and so this is what he has to deal with today! The child tried to feel some satisfaction over this, but try as he might, it wasn't really forthcoming. All he could picture was the hangdog look Brian must have on his face right now. All he could see was the way Brian would be shuffling around all sad for the rest of the day.

Or worse, following at Lois's heels and trying even harder to simper and kowtow and kiss up to her. Oh, Brian...

Stewie sighed deeply and decided to head upstairs to his room. There was nothing down here for him right now. Just the return of the new normal, this life he wasn't ready to resume his role in today. It was exhausting, to contemplate how long it was going to go on for. Now that the others had returned, when would be the next time that he and Brian could really relax and be themselves? How often would Brian get to take a break from being a pathetic browbeaten husband? How often would he allow Stewie to be more than just some lame, snivelling little precocious brat he had to take care of?

God, he shouldn't have this much power over me…

Perhaps the most important question was, how long was Stewie going to be in love with his stepdoggy?

Another sigh as he crossed the threshold into his room before dejectedly shutting the door behind him.

Why couldn't you imbeciles have just stayed gone?


End file.
